#mothchecks

my mom visited for a little while. she wanted to be my meal support mainly, and came prepared with a tasty curry the first day. her thoughtfulness is mindblowing – she used only ingredients that are safe-ish for me, and even told me she didn't use oil.

before telling her about my ed, i was so sure she'd never be able to "meet me" where i am at in my illness and semi-recovery or be patient enough to deal with my fucked up behaviour. but holy shit, i was so wrong. for some reason it feels amazing and awful at the same time.

she worked from my living room while i went to work, and she always had dinner ready for me as i got back home. it was difficult. so-fucking-difficult. but i ate everything she'd lovingly put together. problem is, of course, i couldn't help but to compensate on my other meals... i've never felt sicker in my life. i don't count anymore (i can't, it drives me to the brink of absolute insanity), but i know i'm restricitng more and more and eating less and less. everything makes me anxious now. even soup. it makes NO SENSE.

christmas approaches too quickly and it scares me because i'm deteriorating quicker. at this rate i won't be able to stand on my feet by new years.

i had an appointment with my ✨️person✨️ at the ed advisory organisation, and i brought my mom with me this time. i wanted her to see things a little differently maybe, in a way i've never been able to pit into words. and my person, bless her big beautiful heart full of care and support and love, helped her understand. she's stuggled with buljmja in the past, so she knows all the most fucked up and horrific parts of an ed, and she manages to convey it in such an amazing and succinct way.

at one point, she asked me to tell my mom what it's like for me. i knew what i had to say, but the words lodged in my throat – i've always kept that particular truth so close to my heart no one has ever seen even the slightest glimpse of the truth. finally i pushed out: "i've been in pain, so much pain, for so many years, it hurts so bad, and..." my voice turned into a hoarse whisper, the only way i could admit it. "this is the only thing that helps." and then i burst into tears. my mom hugged me, choked up, said she was sorry for my childhood, sorry for not seeing me, sorry for rarely hugging me, sorry for treating me harsher than she did my sister, sorry for not protecting me from my father's ire, sorry for not being there when i was falling apart.

my person said i could let it all out, that i could rage and cry and lose it as much as i wanted to (and she KNOWS how much i want to), but i couldn't. i composed myself within minutes, shut myself off and tried not to feel ashamed.

i made a lil birthday cake for my coworker, who's so kind and lovely and fun and helpful (i love my job & coworkers so much). vegan carrot cake with buttercream, decorated as a rainbow.

i also made a huge carrot cake for everyone else to enjoy (we celebrated one-month-to-christmas, so a lot of people came to the common room to have lunch and snacks together) and i had to cut it in half just to fit it onto the plates! i know it doesn’t look particularly tasty, but people told me it was the best carrot cake they'd ever had so i'm happy!

i couldn't eat it though, not even one bite. i'd spent hours making it, but all i allowed myself was cinnamon oatmeal with chunks of apple and sugar free orange jam.

i've always found solace and a sense of meaning in going to work every day, but now all i want is to quit my job and completely isolate myself so i can restrict even more. the want is so intense it scares me.

the restriction is out of control. the panic is consuming me, i get angry just LOOKING at food now. i never in my life thought i'd let it get as bad as this. that number... it should be fucking terrifying. i don't get why it's not.

i want to escape this, but i can't figure out how. it's like a chest locked in a chest locked in a chest, and all the keys have crumbled into sand. i feel horrible, mentally and physically – my body is breaking down and I can't stop the awful descent. i'm in hell where i burn in glowing embers and i'm at the bottom of the northern sea where i freeze into crumbling chunks of fine glazed ice and i'm deep in a rotting forest where i petrify into uneven slabs of grey stone. i will turn to dust if someone puts their hand on my skin, but i'm so touch-starved, i just want someone to hold me forever. i want to feel safe.

my sister visited over the weekend – she's worried. she's been making all sorts of food for me, but i just get worse and worse. the toxic urges are controlling me almost completely now, and i'm barely fighting it. she doesn't push, but she's there for me. we talked a lot. childhood, depression, ed... friends, family, work, fun, future, movies, literature, our mom's dog. i've missed her.

we never connected on a meaningful level despite growing up together and being so close in age. i know it's my fault, i subconsciously blamed her for my abuse growing up, and treated her cruelly because of it. she never deserved it. maybe it's not too late though. i think she misses her sister too.

people generally don't take candid photos of me – it's just not really in most of my friends' nature – so seeing some of the pics my sister took me a of me this week... gods. the lines around my mouth are so pronounced. i look awful, i look double my age. dried up, shriveled little shrimp.

FREE PALESTINE

sister and i went to a public memorial service for the victims of gaza. the speeches were some of the most emotional i've ever heard – not just of sadness and softness, but of a burning rage, an inferno directed at our weak and cowardly government, at the hypocrisy of the west, at the genocidal existence of israel.

vær stille når barna sover, ikke når de blir drept // be quiet when the children are sleeping, not when they are murdered

sister & i went to my city's biggest "classical" cinema that specialises in analogue film, and we saw cabiria from 1914, accompanied by live music from an incredibly skilled pianist! i absolutely adored the start of this film: superb special effects, intriguing storytelling, beautiful set and clothing design! a stunning piece of art honestly. the film slowly began to collapse in on itself though, the longer it dragged on. why name a film after a super interesting character if the film is not actually about that character? i don't care about the men or the wars or the generals, i care about cabiria! wasteddd opportunity.

got some really really lovely snaps from friends this week, and some funny ones. i love how technology has made it so easy to stay in touch with people you don't get to see that often.

one friend wondered when do i sleep, really, because i was baking the carrot cake at 2 am, to which the answer is 'i don't' lol. i get up at 6 or 7, and i fall asleep way past midnight, every single night. surprisingly, i'm doing alright. coffee helps.

another friend made my soul weep touched tears when he sent me a picture of gorgeous traditional polish shirts because he knows i like them. i can't get over the fact that he wanted to share his find with me like this.

a different friend sent me a video she'd taken of a cool location, which i LOVED and of course i told her so, and she said to me: "i specifically took the video for you cus i thought you'd like it" and oh. the way my heart soared when i read that. like... i matter to people? they think of me even when i'm not there? wild.

and on that note... there are incredible people on this app. so supportive, so beautiful, so lovely, so capable of preservering through the toughest and most painful of times. they inspire me, they listen, they share my burdens. i don't know what i'd do without them.

week started off stressful as all heeeeell, since i had a friend over for dinner – i'm gonna call her roony cause she used to be my roomie – and we made our signature dish that we always used to make when we lived together: spagetti bolognese, vegan of course.

we made the 'meat' part with mushroom, which helped my anxieties, but roony had been kind enough to not only bring me flowers(!) but also dessert. a sweet and doughy caramel muffin. the fear stuck its nasty, slimy tendrils deep into my brain and locked my body in place, and yet i finished it. or, well, i c/s half of it discreetly, but still. haven't had something like that in years. don't know how to feel about it.

had a second date with my rollerskating bumble date and it was lovely <3

we made spooky and cute halloween decorations in my apartment. still getting on really well 💞

another vintage kilo sale! never seen so many high-quality and interesting pieces in one place before, so i went a little insane in the fitting room. i went with a friend – let's call her morticia because she is as gentle and loving and cool and dark as her, although much more passionate and fun – whom i've spent a lot of time with this week.

i got some really cool clothes, including a red silk qipao which is just stunning.

i got a drink with her afterwards, which! victory. i don't want to be limited by stupid number rules anymore, i just want to enjoy a sweet cocktail with a friend after a fun day, as we talk about all sorts of interesting things; politics, queerness, childhood, fashion, ethics, philosophy, art movements throughout history... this is the life i want. i keep getting little tastes of freedom, and i want it so bad.

work has been insane, i'm doing so many video projects rn. one of them was in a city two hours away by car, so i got a nice little roadtrip with two coworkers. so great to get to know them even better, they're SO knowledgeable in their respective professions (both history and culture related). i could listen to them talk for hours.

got a letter in the mail which absolutely decimated me. the envelope contained the results from my bone scan and it shows osteoporosis across my entire skeleton. hips and femurs worst affected. my whole world fell apart a little – i'm in my 20s but got the bones of an old lady. i won't be able to ice skate this winter, or try out rollerskating with the girl from bumble.

this is what restriction will do to you. believe me, it's not fucking worth it. it's been misery for two decades, it's misery now, and it will be even more misery in the future. part of me wants to give in completely – just let myself wilt and die in pain and isolation – now that the damage is likely irreversible.

the other part of me, the part that's had a taste of love and life and laughter, wants to fight. wants to change. and change is terrifying. but i can't call myself a fighter if i don't try now, one last time, to get the most out of my short little life here on earth. i don't want to waste it, i don't want to regret it, i don't want to be stuck in a hospital years from now without any possibility of ever living a normal life. i can't.

had a horror night at another one of my friends – let's call him henry after henry cavendish, a secret little inside joke ;) – it's spooky season after all! we saw four episodes of guillermo del toro's cabinet of curiosities, and they were all great! everything i want out of a horror anthology honestly. my absolute favourite was the rat one, and i can't wait to watch the rest of the series.

henry and his girlfriend served a nice selection of snacks, from grapes to sweet candy to potato crisps to popcorn to salted peanuts. i couldn't bring myself to touch the nuts or the crisps, but i ate a lot of the rest. tried to not let the guilt and terror get a hold of me, as i cannot afford to lose any more ŵə!ğĥţ. i can't let this destroy me, and ruin my bones even more.

from the river to the sea, palėstinẹ will be free. these past few days have been too awful to put into words. my friends from the wẹst bānk are still safe, as are their families, thank the gods. i of course attended the demonstrations in my city. so much pain and grief and anger, everywhere. i've never seen this many people in this kind of protest before, it truly warmed my heart. some of the speakers told stories so raw and beautiful and agonised they reduced me to tears. i made a new friend in the march.

i don't think i can write about this, though i want to, i want to burn the whole unjust, racist, money-hungry, apartheid-excusing, ethnic cleansing-allowing world to the ground, but i can't. i'd cry and cry and cry, and i'd never be able to stop writing. never in a million years – i'd write until my fingers bleed and i'm used up and empty inside, because i know my words have no effect on the state on the world, not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction.

free palėstinẹ. let gāzā live. respect existence. respect resistance. respect, and support, human rights, lives, and dignity.

really felt myself in the qipao lol. met up with morticia after the protest, and we got dinner. i had gyros with aioli, as a challenge to myself. difficult. doable. i'm surviving.

went to a burlesque show with some other friends later in the evening. it's so goddamn sexy, every time. i want to be like them. and i want them to want me, to think i'm attractive the way i think they're attractive. does that make sense? i guess it's the eternal queer dilemma of 'do i like her or do i wanna be her?'

two of my friends do pole fitness, and i used to do it too, years ago. they invited me to come along next practice! i'm so excited for it, but ashamed to show my body. i think they'll be too polite to point it out, but if they ask, i'll just be honest about it. i'll say i'm fucked up but that i'm working on it. and that in six months, i'm gonna be noticeably better, and i'll grow to be a strong, capable, pole-dancing woman. maybe if i think it enough times, i'll be able to do it.

got coffee with henry and morticia, before we went to an art gallery. i'm filled with such joy whenever i'm with them. we later got some sushi, which has always been safe for me.

my sister has been staying with me for a couple of days, doing her own thing. she's leaving for a different city to stay with her boyfriend tomorrow. it's nice to have her around, but there is a distance between us i'm struggling to cross. it's like we don't have anything meaningful to talk about. or maybe we just don't dare to open up anymore.

also spoke with my nomad friend – let's call her naomi – who travels the world at the regular and gets lots of great travel offers. she got me an amazing deal: three return flights for dirt cheap. so now i've got plane tickets to three major european cities coming up in the next few months. she also booked my return flight to egypt for december, cause i hate celebrating christmas with my family and i've made it a tradition to leave the country each year. i never thought i'd be this blessed. i have so much to fight for.

my london flight landed in the early morning hours, and i went straight to my scheduled appointment with my psychologist (sleep? don't know her). i can't remember most of what we spoke about, i wasn't present at all. good thing i can read my medical journal online ;)

apparently we discussed meal plans since my dietitian is still on sick leave, as well as regulating difficult emotions, and she again pushed for the possibility of the dreaded inpatient treatment. i agreed to let her look into the options, especially whether my veganism could be accepted anywhere; this part i actually remember. i still don't want inpatient treatment though, the thought of it makes me feel sick to my very stomach.

went to a very spontaneous halestorm concert with my rock music-loving friend who managed to get a hold of some ridiculously cheap secondhand tickets a couple of hours before the concert started.

15-year-old me would be obsessed with the knowledge that she gets to see this concert in the future, but she'd be so disappointed to learn that i didn't know that the second warm-up band was black veil brides until i was standing in the queue!

it was amazing! bvb used to be my absolute favourite band at 15, and i've loved halestorm for years. mothica opened the concert, and she's great too. bvb played so many of their "classics" and the nostalgia was almost overwhelming. halestorm was mindblowing. and they kept going, on and on and on and on, playing all my fav songs as well as a lot i'd never heard before. we had seats, and i was so exhausted by everything that i nodded off about... 50 times? at a rock concert. crazy.

at one point i felt myself falling asleep but couldn't wake my body up, no matter how hard i tried. terrifying, i thought i was dying.

visited a cute secondhand bookshop! bought more books; my personal library is enormous at this point. now all i need is to actually read through it...

also visited one of my favourite secondhand stores, and! they had ballgowns galore! it's the season i guess. absolutely amazing dresses, and so so cheap. i got the pink one (felt like a fairy princess in it) and the blue one (it should look a lot better on me once i recover).

do i have a ball to attend? of course not. i suppose i need to host one myself 🪷

volunteered at a film festival! the work is super easy, and you get to see lots of cinama for free.

i didn't see as many films as i wanted to, i was way too busy. but i got to see the iranian documentary colours of love, the japanese film plan 75, and the chilean film sorcery (i almost fell asleep during all of them, help). my favourite was sorcery, the cinematography was pure art and the story was powerful and beautifully told.

i've booked my december trip to egypt, but with the way things are going steadily downhill now... it's delusional of me to think i can make it. and i'm likely going to berlin and dresden too, the week before. i've been living like a church mouse for two months to be able to afford the egypt tickets, and i'm so excited to go, i can't fuck this up for myself.

i had another ekg at the hospital, where i measured in at 42 bpm, my lowest yet. based on things my treatment team are saying (and writing in my medical journal), things are... not good. luckily, as long as i'm somewhat medically stable and not passing out, etc. i'm safe from forced inpatient treatment.

our government voted on whether to recognize palestine as a state. the bare fucking minimum, right? we showed up outside parliament on the day of the vote, white sheets in hand, ready to lay down in the cold to make sure our politicians would visualise a tiny fraction of the immense human loss in palestine. the loss of thousands of children. to remind them to condemn their murderers.

i thought we would finally join the other 138 countries who recognise palestine. again, the bare fucking minimum.

i was wrong. disappointed doesn't even begin to cover it. i was so full of rage i didn't even know where to direct it. i'm ashamed, so ashamed, of our government, of our PM. weak, folding, cowardly. awful, genocide-excusing assholes using the idea of human rights merely as a stepping-stone to power; but nothing they see fit to actually respect. at least my party voted for recognition. it's a small small small comfort.

🇵🇸 free palestine 🇵🇸

i'm posting a lot about the genocide and the hypocricy of the west on my insta, and a girl from the queer group i've been getting to know recently reached out and asked if i was attending the saturday march, which of course i was! we went together with a few others from the same group and shouted ourselves hoarse. the speeches almost made me cry on multiple occasions, the heartwrenching emotion in their words and voices... man.

it was freezing cold (-9°) but heartwarming to see the sheer amount of people who showed up, demanding the closure of the israeli embassy, shouting for our PM to fucking listen to us.

after the march we sought shelter in a queer café to get some warmth back into our bones. i connected with some people i hadn't really spoken with before, it was lovely. [the wc was beautifully hand-painted!!]

kjærlighet // the strongest kind of love

in the evening, we met up again! they got a beer and some drinks at a bar, then we headed to a queer club. probably the best night out i've had in years, even if i was wearing my grandma sweater lol. the club has three floors and three djs, and we chose the dj who played exclusively 80s, 90s, 00s and 10s anthems + taylor swift. i lost it when all i want for christmas came on; this was the only setting i could enjoy that song ;)

i had one vodka tonic, and snacked on carrots throughout the night like a weirdo. i genuinely don't know how i managed to stay on my feet, dancing, all night, then walk home. i felt unbelievably weak, but the preservance of my body continues to surprise me.

my mom arrived on sunday, at my request. i need support, and thought maybe her being there could help me a little.

rotting from the inside, rotting from the outside, rot rot rot rot rot

i'm trying so hard to eat more (and better), but it's such a steep mountain to climb. every day i wonder wether i can actually do it. i have to keep reminding myself of the alternative: staying stuck in this cycle of obsession and disgust until i die, hating myself, hating my body, devoid of enthusiasm and energy, unable to connect with another person on a level that truly matters. i'd rather die than having to STILL live like this when i'm 40.

i need to listen more to my recovery playlist i think. motivate myself and all that jazz.

i'm gonna make it up this mountain. i'll push my fucking boulder to the very top and watch as it slowly tips over to the other side, rolling down the rocky mountain cliffs until it's far gone and finally out of sight. then i'll lay down in the softest of moss and listen to the songs of the wind. sisyphus aint got nothing on me.

met yet another girl from bumble bff; this one an artist with a passion for politics, literature and dance. she is so well-read, and has so many interesting takes! she'd brought a book with her to our first irl meet-up, which she kindly lent me. i'm gonna try to finish it before next week!

my bc'ing has been completely out of control though. i think because the disordered part of me is feeling so threatened, it will do anything to keep me sick.

all your hard work will be gone, it says, my thoughts an absolute trainwreck in my mind. all your suffering has been for nothing. you've destroyed yourself and gotten nothing in return. why stop now? there is so much more to lose. you know you can do it. you can't recover before you're sick enough, and you're not sick enough yet. lose more, a lot more, and maybe then you'll be worth care and support and love. look at yourself, look at your body. it's not enough, not by far far far far.

i'll have breakdowns in the evening, lose my mind at night, feel conflicted in the morning, read recovery books in the afternoon. i'll go on walks, trying to feel like i'm just a part of nature and not at war with my own biology, but it doesn't work. the cycle repeats itself.

i travelled to berlin on friday, a spontaneous weekend trip with a friend who has a lot of vouchers and travel points, sooo she fixed us up with free accommodation and free return plane tickets! i've never felt luckier.

berlin is my kind of city. the political (super leftist, anti-capitalist, anti-war) scene is unparalleled. outside of the tourist traps, the city is a labyrinth of interesting streets, hidden clubs, and alternative communities.

my friend knows a lot of people in berlin, so we did our own thing for a while, and hung out together occasionally. i love solo travelling, so that was perfect.

the street art!

the markets!

the vintage shops!! i bought so much stuff i could barely close my backpack... i travel cheap, so i never buy luggage ;)

the fashion in berlin is so creative and appears almost effortlessly cool. it inspires me to recover, so i can look as good as the people here do, and feel free to express myself the way i used to.

all the vegan food!!! not gonna lie, the food was a challenge. i kept telling myself i don't wanna live like this i don't want a body like this i don't want a health like this i want life i want love i want a future and it helped a little. still guilty and anxious and stressed about it though. it feels like i'm losing something when i eat more than i usually do. like i'm weakness personified.

ate a crepe with nut butter nougat for the first time in my life and it's the best thing i've had in years. the fact that i've been depriving myself of joys like this... maaaan

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right now i'm sprawled on the floor of an airport in denmark, cause i had a connecting flight and the first flight got delayed by an hour, which meant i missed my second flight.

i cried at the gate and on the plane and upon landing, because i was so sure i wouldn't be able to change the ticket since i got it through a third-party booking service, and a new ticket for the first morning flight would set me back €150. i think only parts of the breakdown was related to the money – i realised mid-flight that i'm unbelievably overwhelmed, and have been for some time.

if i sit still in my apartment, the disorder will devour me, so i do different things every single day; anything to avoid the empty void inside me. but it's caught up to me and i don't know how much longer i can keep the exhaustion at bay.

luckily the third-party service mailed me and offered a €25 ticket for tomorrow's flight! i almost cried of relief, but i've done enough crying for an entire month lol.

had some fun with it