Lost thoughts: hidden pictures

Deleting pictures off my phone, stowed in my password protected hidden folder, was a big deal to me.

Pictures of food, my body, my emotions. The images represent different stages of processing anxiety, OCD and orthorexia. The meals are sad and wilted, lacking key flavour and nutrients to varying degrees. Saying this is not part of my life any more is letting go. It’s saying the emotions do matter, but it’s not something I need to hold on to.

I think there was an inmate fear within, that I would forget how sad I was. It wasn’t a reminder of progress or how far I’ve come, but proof of what I had been through and that I had struggled.

Oddly the proof didn’t leave my phone, I did not post on social media or show people. So who was I really trying to prove this to? I had distanced myself from people and involvement in my life I needed a reason, and proof of the reason to show I wasn’t daft.

You don’t want people to doubt you’re not okay. By people I mean friends that weren’t friends, they have since slipped out my life like my now non existent relationship with skinny whip bars. Thank the lord for losing all three; skinny whip bars (the devils work), un supportive friends, and photos.