Orexis

I need a plan, a structure, because, quite frankly, I am going nowhere. I feel more and more trapped by the day and I feel like I am going to lose it any minute. I don’t feel like myself. I don’t feel like someone else either. I just don’t… feel.

This is such a recurrent theme for me. And the only way I’ve found to initiate a change in 23 years is to do something drastic. Sometimes just cutting my hair and dying it a different color will do the trick and sometimes it’s raw food and water for a whole week. Sometimes it’s training twice a day for a while. Until I cannot take it anymore.

I have a appointment to change my hair color on Friday. Then I have stupidly booked 2 dinners for the weekend. I am feel I am going to be a whale by Monday.

I need a plan. I need more than just this nothing feeling.

Today I ate :
1.5 liter of mineral water
2 cups of organic coffee
Coke zero
¼ avocado
¼ chickpea salad
¼ multi-grain bread roll
¼ cup raw veggies

Today I decided it was ¼ cup day. I don’t have a particular reason. 0.25 is such a nice number.

Today I am wearing a size 3 levi’s jeans and they are falling off my ass.

I told my father about my sprained wrist and he said: “Oh yeah, it looks pretty bad.” He touched lightly my blue wrist, pointing at a big bump. “That’s my wrist bone, dad.” He looked at me in silence.

I am turning into a weird person, I think. When I look at myself in the mirror, I see this strange girl. I see her flaws, her sickness and I am scared. I been obsessing about my weight lately. I am afraid to gain. To screw my body up…

It sunny outside today. I think I’m going to go for a run with the dog. I need to cleanse myself, to share off the dirt, the fat, the ugliness.

When I need to stop for a moment or to suppress my hunger I go to the coffee shop that’s inside our skyscraper. There is a guy there, I do not know his name, but he is really nice. He always remembers which coffee I like and prepares it as soon as I step in. He is shy so we don’t talk much, but he smiles. Just knowing that he wants to please me, that a cares a little bit, makes it easier to go back to the office.

I am quite sure he is not aware of his role in my day, but anyway, thank you coffee guy. I can now go back to work and forget about the howling hole in my belly.

Last weekend was my birthday and I had requested Indian food. Instead of going to a restaurant, my family cooked for me. They all know how health is important for me so everybody did something different, healthy and home made. We shared at my sister’s place a copious meal, let me tell you.

I was all fine and good and great and I had a good time but I ate to much. I have gained 2 pounds over the weekend and it pisses the shit of of me.

I walked back home across the park. There is a small building in the middle of the field where they store the lawn mower and stuff like that. As I walked by it, I saw someone avoiding me. It was very strange. I as turned a corner, I saw his/her bacl turn the opposite way. Just like in a movie. I wasn’t scared. I was curious and I wondered why the person was avoiding contact. Not that I wanted to talk to him/her.

I kept on walking and I wondered if I should purge the food behind a bush. All this food…

I stepped on a patch of ice and my flat leather boots went sliding forward as I fell back onto my back. I tried to regain my balance, but it was too late. I sprained my wrist, scratched my palms and my fingers and it would not stop bleeding.

All ideas of purging went away and I walked back home, wondering if the hidden person had see me.

I did not sleep that night.

How do I explain that I prefer not to eat anything than to eat something I haven’t prepared myself? Normality only goes up to a point. I almost never eat out and when I do I usually end up locked up in a toilet, getting rid of anything unsure.

People are astonished by my cooking skills but if they knew! Sure, I cook wonderfully but it is a curse to me more than it is a blessing. I get into these phases where I eat only certain kind of food, only an amount of this, none of that. I am in a fiber phase right now. It’s not so much about the calorie content, it’s all about fiber. I need to visit the toilet, baby! (Sorry if I am grossing you out. But I am disgusting).

I am starving right now. I am at work and I have Spanish lessons in 15 minutes. It’s a 2 hours lesson. After, I go to my friend’s place for a board game evening. I won’t be home before midnite. And can you believe that I won’t eat a single thing until then? I prefer to feel dizzy and sick to take the chance to eat anything prepared.

I am fucked up in the head real bad. Who does that?

I keep rising from my ashes.
Why do I ever raise again? And again?

The obsession.

When I think I have vanquished it, it haunts me and surprises me in the worst ways.

Back to square one.

I feel like I am in a giant maze and I cannot find the exit nor can’t I find my way back to the entrance. I am trapped into my own mind. I obsess over the tiniest things. The simplest things. All details blur into one gigantic fear and I just.can’t.vainquish.it.

I’ve always had OCD behaviours. These behaviours are intertwined tightly with my personality. We are indivisible. But it took a long time to morph my general anxieties into an obsession with food. OCD was lead to ON; othorexia nervosa. As a result, I battle myself everyday. I have to force feed myself on a daily basis.

I have two entities inside of me. The first one being this pure, light, healthy being. The other one is darker, sinister. The second being has gone awry in the process of purification, it took the wrong turn somewhere and it has led to an habit to scrutinize every aspect of my eating. The dark entity is always taking the white one down and telling it is not pure enough. Not clean enough.

I feel dirty most of the time. I exfoliate, hydrate, scrub, wash, polish, brush, pluck, file, make up, clean. I over exercise. I count EVERYTHING. I am a maniac.

I have created Orexis (orexis means appetite in greek) because I feel like I will explode soon. I have to get it out. I have to write down my madness in order to understand it. And hopefully vanquish it?

I am not like most of the other girls I read about. We are not maniac in the same way. My thinness is a side effect of my othorexia. I do not necessary seek bones. But I can’t eat, like the anoretic. And I fall into excess like the bulimic.

I am Mckayla. Is there anybody else in this maze?