Every time I go to work I come home feeling like shit. Shift work is fucking up my circadian rythmn as well as having to cope with difficult clients at the moment. I feel like I’m not strong enough for the job I was once so passionate about.
I’m slipping back into disordered eating behaviours and I find it increasingly hard to stop. Although I have my fiance and my family who are awesome and always so loving and supportive, we’ve been dealing with some rough shit in the past few months. I feel like putting my burdens on to them is so unfair when it looks like the light is starting to shine at the end of the tunnel for our family.
The sick part of my mind says speaking to my doctor about my ED is a pointless task because I’m not sick, I’m not thin and who would believe a fat girl? I’ll get a pat on the shoulder and some pills that will make me feel even more tired than I am now.
I was doing so well too, learning to love myself and not getting persuaded by the voice in my head that says I’m not pretty enough or thin enough or good enough. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever really beat this shit, or if my life will be a string of doing well and then relapsing.