I am alive.

I told myself I wasn't going to post on this blog ever again. I didn't plan to leave, exactly, but somehow after my last post, life just got in the way. I started to like life again.

I have read through my own blog occasionally since the last time I posted, and it has shocked me sometimes. When I read my posts now, I am amazed that I was able to fool myself so easily. In the words of Marya Hornbacher, I can see that the girl is lying. She is 'the girl' because surely that girl is not me. I knew at the time that I was lying to everyone around me but I never realised how much I was lying to myself. It sounds like such a dreadful cliché, I know, but it is shockingly true.

When I came back the last couple of times, I read the comments on my last post. And I cried. At this one in particular;

'She hasn't posted in a long time, does anyone know what happened to her, is she okay? Alive? x'

It never occurred to me that leaving so suddenly would cause people such concern, and I probably should have written this post sooner. For that, I'm sorry. Thank you to everyone who has ever worried about me, including all my readers, I hope that you are happy and hopefully healthy.

Another thing that struck me was that I can see now how I was trying to run away from my life, and in the time that's passed, I've identified that as probably a contributing factor, among others, to my eating disorder; I was not, and still am not entirely, ready to grow up. I have an alarming fear of growing up - as I obviously managed to demonstrate at the time, it has crippled me at points. I was fifteen when I had this blog originally and I was in my last year of secondary school, after which transition is unavoidable. I think my subconscious realised this and freaked out. If you continue reading, you'll understand why I'm even more consciously worried about the next transition in my life.

I'm eighteen now, and a lot has happened to me since my last post, as I'm sure people have probably guessed.

I achieved twelve GCSEs in the summer of 2010, and did better than I'd expected to. I studied History, Spanish and Psychology at A Level for the two years since then and found out two weeks ago that I'd achieved the grades A*BB, in that order. This has meant that I managed to get into a good university; I'm moving down there in a couple of weeks' time. And that honestly scares the shit out of me - it's two hours away from where I live now and I'm starting over entirely since I don't know anyone down there. I guess I'll just have to grit my teeth and deal with it.

In terms of my personal life, me and Andrew (it's so strange calling him that since that's never been his real name) are still together; we'll have been together for two and a half years in September, and we have a very strong, happy relationship. I know I've never deserved him but I can honestly say that I have no idea where I'd have ended up if it weren't for him. I hate to sound cliché, again, but he probably saved my life when I fell in love with him.

And that's perhaps the most monumental thing. Maybe I'm not entirely recovered - I doubt anyone ever is and I doubt I ever will be either - but I'm okay.

I still check the calories in food - though sometimes they are ignored - and I still weigh myself almost everyday. This is why I am not fully recovered; I don't think this is possible for anyone. You never forget; it doesn't just go away and you can't make it just disappear. I have scars on my hips and thighs from where I hurt myself and I wonder sometimes how I managed to hate myself with such violent force.

But most days I don't think about my scars. I don't cry when I read the number on the scale, or when I look in the mirror. Right now, as I type this, I am 129.0lbs. I still don't like my weight, but I do not starve. I do not throw up. I do not exercise to the point of passing out. I have not cut, or self-harmed in any other way, in over two years.

It's taken time. A lot of time. And it really hurts when you see, and understand, what you have been doing to yourself. But I know I've come out stronger for it.

And I really hope that you, whoever you are, will have the courage to pull through this and realise you are beautiful.

It really does get better, I promise.

x