My journals from hospitals

Published on 1 July 2025 at 15:40

When I was in both the general hospital and the psychiatric units, I used to find writing soothing - I could let all my thoughts out without fear of repercussion. I would write and write and write, letting everything flow from my temple to the notebook in front of me. This was my outlet, my release.

 

Looking back at them, I believe they share a good insight as to what living with anorexia is like.

 

Trigger warnings: talk of anorexia, weight, calories, restriction of food and water intake, starving oneself, body dysmorphia (e.g. calling myself fat) and addiction (of starving/restricting). If any of these things trigger you, please do not read further. Your wellbeing is important.

 

For the safety of my readers, I have not included numbers of weight or calories but these subjects are mentioned.

 

Here are a few pieces I have found in the notebooks I haven’t thrown away:



“Eating isn’t just a worry, or a concern, or a thought in the back of my head - it’s a constant, it’s anxiety, it’s dread. Every pound I gain here the more I have to frantically shed when I get home. I’m not skinny. I’m not pretty. I’m not desirable. I am fat. I have massive thighs and an always bloated stomach. How did I get here? Why did I start eating again? I was doing so well. Maintaining the same [low weight]kg whilst being restraint fed. I must be at least [healthy weight]kg now, more than [several] stone more. 8 more weeks until I can starve. 8 more weeks until I can have control. Dr [redacted] said 8 more weeks and I am on my knees begging it to be less. Rant. Rant. Rant. Rant. Rant. Thank you for reading and understanding. I love you. Bye.”

 

As you can probably tell, I was eating what I was meant to at this stage in my stay there. It was all for show though. Most ‘recoveries’ in those places are nothing more than a façade to escape. My head was still in the same mindset as to when I was refusing food. I didn’t go home eight weeks later. Healthy eating does not equal a healthy mindset.

 

“I had to drink. It’s my CPA on Monday which decides my discharge date. If I don’t drink they won’t send me home. I’ll starve instead. It’s more subtle. After Monday I’ll do both. I don't want to feel better. I want to starve. I want to faint. I want to die. I just want to be skinny again. I want to feel pretty.”

 

I had started refusing to drink anything for several days at a time. I could never go without hurting myself in some way. I also went the complete opposite way and drank too much water which in turn affected my kidneys. I hated my body. I hated my life. I thought the easiest way out was death.

 

“It seems that no matter how hard I try to escape it, or how much I want to get better, I continue to be compelled by this voice I’d previously learnt to find comfort in. Just as I begin to think that I’ve finally managed to slip away from its firm, deceiving grasp, it once again finds its way to tug me right back into its coven of lies and false security. Like the rain descending from the amalgamation of monochromatic tones of the sky, I am left falling deeper into this spiderweb of apocalyptic obsessions based off of food and weight.

‘Eat [reacted] calories a day maximum’

‘Chew slowly’

‘Never eat alone’

Quickly, my brain again retrains itself as I slowly feel myself cascading back into this abusive cycle. I’ll lie to myself: tell myself that this is the only way I’ll ever be truly happy. I’m drowning - suffocating - yet I cannot find the strength to save myself.”

 

I was thirteen when I wrote that. I remember loving writing back then; I’m nowhere near as good as I used to be. For this extract, I imagined anorexia as a person or, more specifically, an abuser I couldn’t run from. Reading it back makes me realise just how trapped I felt.

 

In one of my notebooks, there’s a double spread page I left completely blank except from a singular line:

 

“I am being cradled by a coven of lies.”

 

Once again, this is me thinking of anorexia as a person. When your thoughts are consumed by this eating disorder, you always, always think everything will be better once you’ve lost the weight. That you’ll be happy. It’s all lies. In reality, you lay starving on your bed at night, unable to sleep because of it, you can’t go out with friends because of your dizziness and weakness,  you don’t enjoy anything, not even the things you used to love, and you can’t concentrate. The voices in your head weave stories of a future that will never be.

 

If you ever find yourself with these kinds of thoughts, no matter how little or insignificant you may think they are, please reach out to someone to prevent them from developing further. You are heard.

 

Eating Disorder & Anorexia Support

Beat (Eating Disorders Charity)

  • Adult helpline (18+): 0808 801 0677

  • Young person’s helpline (<25): 0808 801 0711

  • Student line: 0808 801 0811

 

 



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