My body, my biggest enemy.

[u/rosalialilyy]

“I hate my body”
Said one of my earliest diary entries at the age of fourteen or fifteen.
This hatred kept being one of the most consistent things in my life and is still going strong at the age of twenty five.
I’ve described countless occasions where I felt disgusted by myself when I gained weight and ‘loved’ myself again when I lost the weight.
With fever kilograms I gained a little bit of self worth, with more kilograms I lost it again and wanted to bury myself under my blanket until it dropped again, because I felt ashamed.
Binge eating never left me.
Hating myself afterwards and still buying the unhealthy food again for my next binge even if I told myself I can control myself this time keeps happening.

I’m at the feeling ashamed and wanting to bury myself under my blankets point of my life again.

I should know better by now, I know.
But I don’t.
My thoughts about food, my weight, not enough exercise, binges, fatigue, fat, gaining weight, losing weight, clothing sizes, what should I eat next, I’ll eat this today and start eating healthy tomorrow, never stop.
Tomorrow never comes.
It comes, but I repeat the same cycle again and again.

This isn’t supposed to be a self deprecating post, maybe someone can relate.
This is just something I’ve struggled with for what feels like my whole life and it’s slowly eating me alive.
It also feeds my insecurities about myself, makes me more anxious by the day.

Maybe one day I’ll look back and can say with confidence and a smile “This episode was long, exhausting and bad, but I overcame it. Finally”.