Me vs Mia...

Hey guys :)


I've been away for a week to celebrate my Mothers coming of age! She turned 60 this week and so we went on a family holiday as part of her birthday present.


Any occasion like this is met with much anxiety and deliberation for me. How will I get away without eating? How will I purge without everyone hearing? What if I need a binge and can't control the urges?
However, this is the first time I have been on holiday with my family since they knew about my relapse. I guess it took a little stress off my shoulders as I didn't have to stress too much about hiding it. Having said that, I don't want to rub it in their faces- especially on my Mum's birthday holiday!


I tried my hardest and even got through the whole of the first day (two full meals) without making myself sick! Of course this meant my old acquaintance 'Pain' woke me up at 3 a.m due to my body not really knowing what to do with the foreign substance non e.d folk call food! Which meant that belated purging ensued (always worse than immediate purging) and set me up for feeling ill, guilty and disgusting for the next few days.


Despite this, I was determined to have a good time. And bulimia aside, I really did. We had our own hot tub which we frequented nightly. Went swimming. I joined the boys on a bike ride which left my arse in agony but was totally worth it. Had a couple of sauna sessions and even a manicure!


It was truly a lovely time. -So what's my problem? I can't do things like that without incredible guilt. Why should I be allowed to treat myself nicely when I'm so hideous and disgusting?
Because I'm a person, just like anyone else and everyone is entitled to a nice time and a bit of luxury when on holiday.
Well not me. Didn't I see myself in that swimming costume? Don't I understand that I have put on 12lbs in the last two months? And I'm rewarding myself?!
But its Mum's birthday. I'll make up for it when we leave.
I'm disgusting. I should be ashamed. I should be punished.


This is the conversation with myself that never stops. Not even in sleep. Not even when I'm physically talking to someone else. Not even when I'm watching a film or reading a book. This verbal battle never takes a break.


So yes, I had a lovely time. Yes, I tried to join in with everything and not punish myself. Yes I managed at least one meal each day without throwing up. I should be proud of myself.


I'm not.


The first thing I did when I got home was weigh out my gluttonous rewards and review my failings. And now I have some serious making up to do and self punishment to endure for my week of rebellion from following the rules. The rules that keep things in order. Keep things safe.


Looks like I'm in for a fun week... I'll keep you posted. <3 xoxo