It could be anything.
Youve finally started eating again, after long months, maybe years of an eating disorder, and you see a video on youtube by someone, talking about their unhealthy weight. It brings back emotion. How good it may have felt to be so skinny, the accomplishment of not eating for days straight. Maybe, even, of being able to trick your parents, friends, whomever, that yea, you ate your food. When really, it is just in your pocket.
Youve gone days without cutting. Weeks. Months. Things start to pressurize. You doubt yourself. I bet I will cut again. Someone comes up to you, says something shitty, and you just start thinking. The cold razor on your skin, watching the blood pool up, over and over again. You see someone elses scars. And you remember. You feel split. My scars are part of me, I dont regret them. But, other people judge me. What would be so bad if I cut again?
But, you have to face these. Its like facing your fears, except 10 times as hard, as personal, as scary, and as confusing. Burying them wont fix it. Have you ever put sand over an anthil? Gone back the next day? Seen everything as normal, like nothing happened? Thats what feelings do. They tunnel back up, fighting back, never giving up. So, you have to face them. Deal with them. If you cut, get out of the house, get away from your razor, scissors, needles, whatever you use. Because, if you really want to stop, is it worth it? If you have an eating disorder, think about the food. What I would do, is think about how good the food tastes. And being full. I would look at myself in the mirror, and say, I am OK. This body? Its fine. Its OK to eat. To go to bed with a full stomach. To wake up not fighting hunger, and hating yourself IF you eat.
One huge trigger for me is my friends. They look fine. But, they insist they are “out of shape, too fat, I hate eating.” They go and eat chips, count calories. They look fine. They arent too skinny. They complain about their nose, their waste, their wrists. I just want to get away. Move on. Not think about how I may still be too fat, although I teeter under 95 lbs at 13 years old. I think to myself, do you even know what it feels like to hate when you eat? To be able to see your ribs? To rap yourself in cloth to spare the cruel words about how ugly my waist looks, how I need to eat when you get to school? No. They dont. So dont sit there and say your fat or ugly or you hate eating. Because you dont. I think of how nice it was when I didnt eat. When I felt that accomplishment of going days without food. But I have to push it away. I have to say, No. Its been years now, I cant throw this all away. 2 people complaining about food IS NOT going to make me lose everything that I have done. And then I eat. I finish my lunch. I make myself. And when Im done, I bask in the glory of my accomplishment OF EATING. Of not feeling fat. Of feeling full.
Another is people. People that I care about. Or, at least, their opinion. From those people, a simple, your so stupid, why are you even alive, get away from me, is like being trapped under a boulder. I want to run, to get away. To go to a razor. A bathroom with a broken mirror, or the metal, not plastic thing that cuts paper towels. Something to feel that release. I dont even know how many days I have gone without cutting. But, its been enough where I dont want to let something small get in the way of being, ‘better.’ And, after about an hour, it goes away. But, I have to face it. I have to face what made me angry. The person, the video, whatever it was, I have to face it. Make the opinion not matter. Finish the video to the end, without bad emotion. I have to let it rise up, not try to cover it.