#chelpersonal

Finally bought a bike + went for spin with Em + dinner at Shiok (Singapore food!) + sunset talks about faith ⛅

Anorexia. It's hard to say it. Anorexia. And I guess I never thought that a part of recovering is to be able to say recovery. To be able to say the word. Anorexia. To be able to say it instead of a cryptic 'eating problem'. Anorexia. And I think I never really said it because people around me were never as supportive as I hoped. Anorexia. And it's no fault of theirs because everyone is busy fighting their own battles. And I don't like to talk about it because no one else does. Anorexia. But then how can we say we are advocates against stigma when we are so willing to talk about others, to talk about the disorder, to tell others to talk about their own, when we are so unwilling to talk about ours. I wonder how much of my inability to say, yes anorexia, is due to the fear of stigma. And I go around telling people to eradicate it when I haven't eradicated myself from it. Anorexia. How do I tell people to stop stigmatizing mental health if I stigmatize myself. Anorexia. It's how doctors who smoke tell their patients not to and it happens and it shouldn't and it happens. And I'm still scared to tell people about it. Anorexia. Not about my eating problem. Anorexia. But maybe it's because I've made a full recovery physically, the weight has piled back on, suffocated the shrinking girl I had become, the tired eyes once tired of starving herself now just tired period. Starving. Starving. I don't say that either. Not anymore. Whether it is to fill an empty stomach. Or an empty void in the heart. And perhaps it is because everytime I say it, unconsciously, incredulous beads stare back at me, examine my every inch, extra flesh clinging onto my bones, and words become careful as if my weight was made of glass and they say 'oh' as if it's not a big deal but. Anorexia. I know what they're thinking. But an eating disorder. Anorexia. Is not just for skinny girls. It's not just for girls. A mental disorder doesn't have a type, anorexia doesn't choose its victims and the victims don't know what they're thinking. And a mental disorder. Anorexia. Doesn't have a face. And I sound like I'm preaching now. I'm promise I'm not trying to.

Let go of the idea that people are either 100% good or 100% bad. Focus on learning as much as you can about a person, about their past and their present and their struggles and their pain, before you succumb to the human instinct of instant judgement.

Let go of people who make you feel like you have to change in order to be loved by them.

& when you said you'll love me forever, I wished forever would never end 🐥