Naturally things ended, and obviously on a sour note. I thought I would feel relieved, free even. But I felt more trapped within the hell that was my mind. I cried and slept for what felt like an eternity. The truth is, at that point I wanted to live less than ever.
No one really knew what was going on, except that I never smiled and my weight had plummeted to 49kgs, as someone who is 5’6 it was well under the recommended BMI.
I had made a friend named Ana, and boy was she the best friend I had ever had.
Ana was there, 24/7 telling me I was doing well, that the pain I was feeling was the feeling of control, that for the first time in 3 years I controlled my own life.
The downward spiral continued until my mother finally got me to reluctantly agree to see a counselor, thinking that I was depressed and that my weight loss was due to the stress of the breakup.
The road to recovery was short lived. I had lost most of my friends and had no one to turn to. And soon food became my best friend. I started eating anything and everything I could get my hands on. Indelibly I made myself sick in doing so. Soon the weight began to pile on and I hit rock bottom the day the scales read 66kgs. My heart was broken; I had lost my beautiful Ana and replaced her with some sickening fat person I could no longer recognize.
I freaked out over the weight gain, but I had become obsessed with food, it was my comfort, my only friend. I wasn’t eating to live, I was living to eat.
This was the day that I met Mia. She was as much as a friend as she was an enemy. The never-ending circle of binging and feeling guilty lead me to stick my fingers down my throat so often that it soon became an instinctive reaction to vomit after I had eaten, binge or no binge.
My desperate hopes to eat and not put on weight also meant that I wasn’t losing the weight I had previously put on. So I took an alternative root and started going to a personal trainer. However my lack of strict healthy dieting and continuous binging created another never-ending circle that took me nowhere but back to where I had started. Back to Ana.
This was me at my heaviest of 66kgs after battling with binging and befriending Mia
This was me at my worst of 49kgs (Photo was taken for my art folio which was a reflection of my depression)
The Life of Ana and Mia 
Please read my story. I think I can help you ❤
Thank you! I will be posting more on where I am at as of recently (:
The picture in which you weigh 66kgs is absolutely beautiful. That weight is by NO means fat, even in the slightest. Your body is gorgeous- you have curves and you look like a woman! I am not talking “curvy woman,” which we hear so much as a polite name for those who are actually heavy. I truly mean that you have a stunning body that looks womanly and beautiful. When reading your post about gaining weight, I fully expected to see a girl who was overweight. Seeing your 49kg pictures are painful. You do not look skinny or healthy, you look like you are incredibly sick and dying. I am sorry if that sounds mean, that is the last way I would want to appear. All I wish for you to know is that your body at 66kgs is a wonderful, healthy body, regardless of how bad you were eating (if you truly were eating “bad” at all). There is nothing attractive about seeing bones through your skin, and I am actually jealous of the body you have in the first picture. Please take care of yourself, because your blog is amazing and you seem pretty amazing as well. xo
Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot to me ❤ sending love ❤