So here's a set of photos - a set of photos which I should probably look at and think I look really god damn hot in, and be posting all over every form of social media as my new profile picture, but, instead, I feel quite the opposite.

"When you can't hear anything over the screams inside you, maybe it's time to realize that you need to listen to your insides too."

When I look at these, all I see is weight gain. All I see is someone who I don't particularly recognize. I see someone who no longer looks the way they want to look or feels the way they want to feel.

I see an older, tireder version of me. I see a version of me that has 'let themself go', that has given into all the things she never wanted to give into. I see someone who I never thought I'd be again.

Ironically, the person who I never thought I'd be again is Me. 

I'm starting to resemble the person I was before my mental illnesses came around and that feels very very weird. I'm not used to thinking 'fuck it' about treating myself to a pizza, or going out with my friends and drinking every single weekend. I'm not used to having to squeeze my bum into a pair of jeans, rather than having everything simply slide over my bony backside and fit me no matter what. I'm not used to catching my double chin in photos or feeling like I need to lose 10 lbs.

And, honestly, I know that the only reason for feeling like that is because, before now, I have not been living my life properly, in anyway at all.

I have not been enjoying myself. I have not been doing the things I wanted to do, or being who I want to be.

And now, I am... kind of.
You see, as much as I can see myself returning to a person who I once was before my eating disorders etc., I am still not in a good place - in fact, I'm in a god damn awful place at the moment.

Sure, I'm living a more fun life, socializing, doing jobs I could never dream of, meeting with huge brands and getting to spend time with people I love, but, regardless of all of that, I still despise myself... and that consumes everything that I do.

I still hate what I look like, and that brings a big dark cloud over everything.

I still feel my body and want to cut off my fat with scissors, or dream about the day I can afford multiple surgeries and change my body for good. I still wonder what'd be like if I hadn't 'recovered' and I'd let myself get thinner and thinner, and I still painfully long for the day where I finally feel happy with myself.

I just want to like what I look like. I just want to feel thin and pretty. I just want to be confident in my body - be happy in my own skin.

But, there's something I've realised now, or at least, I'm trying to.

After yo-yo-ing from a size 16 to a size 4/6, and now an 8, no matter what size I've been, I have hated myself. I have hated and hated and hated myself, and no dress size has ever really changed that - despite what my mind is attempting to convince me.

Because, hey, sure, when I was a steady size 6, I felt good. I never had trouble fitting into clothes, I felt proud when I picked up the smallest size in the shop and I worked perfectly for most of the modelling jobs I went to. I didn't get that 'bloated' feeling and I had a big ol' gap between my thighs, which made me feel like I could rule the entire world.

I felt like I was pretty - I felt like someone who could be noticed.

But, on the other hand, everything else in my life was not perfect. I never went out the house, apart from working or a very rare night together with my friends. I never treated myself to anything I wanted, like a simple latte in a coffee shop, or a pizza at the weekend. I never pushed myself to try that many new things, and I lived the same old routine every single day. I ate the same meals at the same times, and had a repetitive workout routine that became like a religion to me.

I was happy I was thin, but I wasn't actually that happy.

Now, yes I am bigger (and as my Mum keeps telling me, not even that noticeably so, but, to me, in my head, I feel very very different). I am a size that feels alien and uncomfortable to me. I feel 'big' and 'squishy' and 'ugly' and all I want to do is be able to fit into my old size 6 jeans and not feel my boobs jiggle as I walk. I want to not have to sit crying over my double chin in a photo or worrying over the size of my thighs at castings. I want to feel 'tiny' and to thrive off of buying that XS clothing size again. I want it all back.

Yet, the thing I have in my head now is - what I keep trying to remind myself of - I'm not willing to give up all the wonderful stuff that's now in my life right that wasn't when I felt like that. I am not willing to give up my social life, the amazing castings and job offers, the greasy pizza I divulge in whilst terribly tipsy at the weekend.

I am not willing to hide myself away in my bedroom and do a boring workout routine over and over, or to eat the same regimented meal plan at the same regimented time. I am not willing to starve myself in order to reach some 'happiness' or 'perfection' that I already know isn't there - I've been there before.

I am not going to give up the freedom I have given myself and worked hard for - my stupid little eating disorders are not going to take that away from me again.

It's taking me a lot of time to build up a good mindset about this - and, trust me, I am not there yet, but I'm definitely on some kind of journey there.

Things have definitely gotten in the way of my feelings/progress; like the pill/contraceptive I've been taking, for example, but I've wanted to learn and grow from it - not let it destroy me. I haven't wanted to let my cravings for that 'skinny' feeling win over my love of a beautiful cheesy pizza *drools*.

No, I am not in a clear 'recovered' mindset right now.

I do worry that when I write pieces like this, people get convinced that I'm okay and I have my thoughts all poised and together... but I still have some big issues going on - some really shitty thoughts swimming round my brain.

But, when my friends text me and say 'let's meet for lunch' or when my someone suggests a Mcdonalds after I've drank 12 double Disaronno and Coke's in Whetherspoons on a Friday night (because, let's face it, without one I'd probably die of alcohol poisoning or something...), I don't want to be that person, sat there, denying it because I might gain a bit of weight or go over my calorie limit for the day - I want to live my freaking life.
That's what I'm going to work on.

I'm going to work on living my life - finding a way that I can live it, that works for me.

I thought I had it all figured out a few moths ago - hence my post 'Self Acceptance - I Can't Be The 'Old Me' Anymore', but I think that this is going to be a very long process - a lot longer than I thought.

Just because I've written this post doesn't mean I've got everything figured out now (which is what I thought when I wrote that last blog post). It doesn't mean I'm not going to cry over my thighs when I look in mirror, or grab my stomach and wish it would just disappear over night. It doesn't mean I'm not going to feel guilty over a bingey weekend or want to restrict my calories every now and again because I feel 'big' or 'sad' - because I WILL feel those feelings again, it's inevitable.

But, trust me, I will fight through them, as I always do. I will wake up everyday and try and love myself, even when I don't.

When I eat a cheese burger, or share some chips with my friends, I will remember to smile, not cry, because that's an achievement for me, not something I should feel bad about.

I will remember how it felt, going from psychiatrist, to psychiatrist, to doctor to doctor, talking about the dark things I used to talk about, and be grateful I am not there in that place anymore, and that I'm now living my life and giggling with my friends.

I will realise that life shouldn't be as consuming as I'm making it be. It should be full of love and happy moments - as many as you can fill it with.

"If you let the ghost of your past scare the life out of your new relationships, it will haunt you."

So yeah, I have to make a choice.

I have to decide whether I want to let this control me forever, or whether or not it's time to let the thing go.

And, just so you know... I want to let the thing go.