It's been impossible to know what to write recently, not because nothing has been happening, but I suppose, due largely to a feeling of shame. I am ashamed to still be in this position, to still not be well. I feel as if anyone reading this must be sick of me, think I'm attention seeking, an idiot, pathetic for still being ill. It's evident that I have so much to live for, i've got great things in my life, but I just cannot cope with the crap when it comes. The lovely Chloe Cook who i've been seeing every 2 weeks for hypnotherapy asked me why i've not been writing recently and when I told her i'm too ashamed to write, she suggested I write about that shame, so here I am. I guess guilt is quite a common factor of all illness, but especially when it comes to mental health I imagine. There is so little understanding of mental health, I mean, I don't get why I can't just eat, or why I care about the number on the scale, so it would be asking a lot for other people to understand it. When I put it into words, spell it out, explain it, it makes absolutely no sense. It makes me miserable, people who I thought would be in my life forever have run, have gone from loving me to seemingly wanting me and my problem out of their lives. It has hurt me indescribable amounts. Reeked havoc on my life, yet when something goes wrong, when I have a moment of doubt, a tough day, I catch myself in a shop window, anorexia digs its vicious claws into my head, my heart and drags its pincers down, leaving its painful pathway through my body. Being empty gives me a high, some people drink, some people smoke, take a number of drugs, all of these are coping mechanisms and being empty is mine. I have a constant internal pull, me vs anorexia. The problem is, every time my day has a hiccup, however big or small, anorexia trumps Maya and the only way to silence the feeling of failure is to starve it. Starve and I am not failing the anorexia teaches. Yet, starve and Maya fails. Whatever I do I feel I am failing and it is shit. This illness is ugly and robs everything good. I miss my life before, I hold onto some moments, feelings of genuine happiness that starvation has robbed me of for the past 2 years. Why the hell can I not get back? Why am I so stupid? I miss life and smiling, but that feeling of hunger still looks so beautiful. Will I get better? Is there such a thing? Or will I battle this disease for the rest of my life?