Fighting Mia

With Mia whispering in my ear every single time I see food, I had forgotten what hunger was. The lines between hunger and craving was blurred and almost non-existent. My RD once told me, “the first sign of hunger isn’t the hunger pangs – those are last. The first sign is when you start thinking about food.”


But when I start thinking about food, that means I’m already craving for something already too right? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving? What is hunger, what is craving?

When you feel like you’re almost going to be full, stop eating. Just stop. Take time, or just sit around. Sit and be with yourself and your stomach. You’ll feel full soon enough.

Throw it up, just do it. You’re so fat already, stop making yourself uglier.

No, I won’t. Because I love myself. I won’t let myself go through that kind of torture again. I may not fully understand it now, but I know I’ll thank myself in the future. Thank myself for not letting it become so severe that I can’t do anything. Thank myself for not letting my teeth rot. Thank myself for not developing throat cancer. Thank myself for having some kind thought for my own body.

It’s all but a lie. They’re telling you lies. Throw it up, you disgusting piece of shit.

But Mia, if I do, you win again. And you’ve won so many times. Maybe it’s my turn to win. Maybe it’s time for you to leave. Because there’s nothing more precious than the smiles of Imagemy loved ones, and they hurt to see me do it. I hurt myself when I do it. Because I’ve learned from you, Mia. I’ve learned how to at least be conscious of when I binge.

Thank you Mia, you’ve shown me how much I need to start loving myself. You showed me how twisted and broken the world is. You showed me that there are others out there who love me. You showed me that I need improvement, and I WILL change. I’ll change for the better, I’ll change for the amazing people in my life. I’ll learn how to be kind to myself, and even though it’s hard to show compassion to myself, I will try. I will try. I will try.


Taken for Granted

One thing that we take advantage of, is memory. A bad memory, a good memory. If youre reading this post, most likely you’ll think you have 5x more bad memories than you have good memories. On my way to stateside, I am transiting at HongKong for two days. Here, i visited a restaurant in which i had purged in. I still remember the cubicle…

The thing is, if you want to move forward, looking backwards is hazardous. You have got to learn to look back and not immediately be thinking negatively. Think of it as a good thought – you’ve survived that day, and now its time to fight again. You’re all soldiers with common enemies – disorders. And we got this. Its time to stop making comments like “oh that was the time BEFORE i started cutting…” or “yep, that’s AFTER i’d started not eating.”

Your lives are too precious to be centered around when you started doing or feeling these things. Theres more to life than just remembering the bad days. Think of all your good days. If you do, and you have a bad day, would you trade away all your good days and memories because of one bad event?

You’re more precious than you think. Take care, love 🙂

Xoxo jleornie


This was taken from under my umbrella on a rainy day in Hong Kong 😉

Mocked and Laughed At

I’m pretty sure many of you who have depression or some other sort of disorders put up a brave front;; a smiling face;; a joking demeanor;; a cheerful smile.

How do you react towards others who joke around about disorders like they’re nothing? Well, they are something. And they’re nothing funny.

Just because a girl didn’t eat her lunch means she’s anorexic. She may be feeling ill and nauseous, therefore having no appetite in food. Just because a boy sits alone in class and lunch time doesn’t mean that he’s depressed. Who knows if he’s merely shy or going through a rough patch? Just because someone eats all the time doesn’t mean he’s bulimic, what if his blood sugar tends to drop very quickly? Just because a girl has bruises doesn’t mean she’s self harming herself. What if she has a rough little toddler sibling or really is clumsy?


I took this picture with my Canon AE-1 camera, in a flower expo in Singapore’s Garden by the Bay. The sunlight streaming through the right side of the photograph illuminating the lavander was what made this picture so captivating for me. The innocence, the peace.

Even if they are not having disorders, doesn’t mean you get to laugh and mock them. You have the power to destroy someone’s life just by making a small comment or a small joke. Having an eating disorder is NOT funny. Having depression is NOT hilarious. Having general anxiety disorder is NOT to be laughed at. Having obsessive compulsive disorder is NOT to be taken lightly at all. Having crying spells is NOT to be joked about.

But be warned: there will always be ignorant people around who will mock and shun those who are suffering. Why? Either because they have suffered and had been mocked on, or merely because they are idiots who deserved to be kicked in the nuts. But you, you are different. Rise above anger, rise above resentment. Show them that you mean business when you don’t joke about disorders. 

Because  they hurt, they kill, and everytime someone makes a joke about it, it takes a part of you away. Little bits of you. If you keep accepting these treatments, you’ll find that soon you’ve got nothing but minute, microscopic pieces of you. Rise, my dears, rise.

Slowly Drowning

There are days (and may I say MOST days) when things never go on properly. You know what I’m talking about right?

Things weren’t going to plan… I ate so much and felt so guilty that I went into the bathroom and tried to force everything up. I had exerted so much pressure on my head that my tears were flowing and my head was throbbing. Nothing I did cheered me up. Everything was going downhill since I first opened my eyes to that blasted sun rays. This was the sunset that i faced last evening. It was beautiful, but all I could feel was dread and fear. The sunset triggered something in me and suddenly my chest heaved uncontrollably as I fell to the floor. Pressure gripped my chest and I thought I was dying, I thought my head and chest was going to explode… A million thoughts raced through my head only to be incomprehensible. What the hell? The world spun around before faces popped up in front of me – security guards and my mother. Nothing else registered and soon it was a black out.

How can you feel safe if something this beautiful could make you feel like jumping into an abyss?

How can you feel safe if something this beautiful could make you feel like jumping into an abyss?

It’s painful, physically and mentally knowing that anything could be a trigger or anything could happen at any time, anywhere. I’m scared.

Having a paper bag is extremely handy when it comes to facing panic attacks. Many people underestimate what a panic attack is, and thought that I just had it because I wanted attention. bull. shit. Having a panic attack might as well mean that one believes that she is really on the brink of death. It drains you completely out of energy and keeps you on your toes, because after ten bloody minutes of it, you feel like anything can trigger another panic wave. Tidal waves upon waves of anguish and panic and fear rushing through your body.

I dare you to make fun of it.

Take time to realise

Everything pissed her off.
Everyone pissed her off.
Those who are close to her suffered her wrath and frustrations.
Jackie couldn’t hold it in any further. She’d exploded. She’d purge after every meal, and binge in between. it felt good for her, something she knew she was finally good at. She couldn’t blow up at those who wasn’t close to her, she just can’t. But she did to those around her…
“What’s that around your eyes?” Her sister would ask in disgust.
“Just shut up will you?!” She’d snap back. Anger raged through her like a fire in the woods.
“Mommmyyy!! Jackie’s eye looks gross!”
“Geeze will you just shut the freak up ?!” The fire within her quickly grew into an inferno.
“Jackie?” Her mother would ask.
One gaze and Jackie stormed away into the bathroom to do what she does best.
Little red dots will appear around and under her eyes, she checked it up, it wasn’t a rash. It was just due to her purging. It had put loads of pressure on her eyes, popping the tiny blood vessels. A small price she paid to do what she was doing now.
Her mouth once more filled with the dirty feeling as she released everything out. Her body pumping with adrenaline as her stomach knotted out its fillings through the gullet and into the toilet. Snapping her head up she saw her reflection in the mirror. Gasping and panting for breath, she sniffed her nose and rubbed away the tears in her eyes from the purging. The girl in the reflection wasn’t very pretty, she knew it was definitely her. For the first time she realized the dots around her eyes, the swelling of the nose, Jackie ran back into her room and sat down, bursting into tears.
She rocked herself back and forth, comforting herself, “no one’s perfect. no one’s perfect.”
A red line caught her eye as she cradled her left arm. It was still throbbing a dull pain since yesterday. A perfect, red, swollen line. The more she looked at it, the more she felt so angry, upset, frustrated. In her rage, she scratched away the top scab. Closing her mouth just in time to not let out a yelp of pain. Blood started to flow again. Blood mixed with tears. She concentrated on the pain of her arm. At least it was better than what she felt inside of her. A monster crept within her, ready to pounce out and show itself to the world. She sat there, silent, containing herself.
A bag of chips caught her eye, along with some candies, snacks, chocolates and drinks she had stuffed into her bag earlier. Gingerly, she reached out to it. Eating them ravishly just to purge them out again later…


This picture was taken with my Canon 60D. These lights are what keep me accompanied in the night in case i wake up from a nightmare. Since nightmares are very common in my sleep, I keep them on for extra help to readjust back to reality.

This picture was taken with my Canon 60D. These lights are what keep me accompanied in the night in case i wake up from a nightmare. Since nightmares are very common in my sleep, I keep them on for extra help to readjust back to reality.

I used to have a blog, where i could just rant everything out. And i just wanted to share a story that i had written in my blog. It’s a true story, a memory that haunts me even until today. Sure, it wasn’t one of my “big deals” but this was at the very beginning of my depression and bulimic days… I just hope this shows a little bit of the anguish I had felt, and to let it be a testimony that one  can recover, and it’s very much possible

Regrets and Fall backs

I was having a pretty good week today, until just dinner time… i binged and i binged and i binged without knowing it. Suddenly when I realised what I’d done, a box of this and that and this and that was already gone and finished. Glasses upon glasses of sweet drinks poured down my throat. I felt disgusted at myself. Flung myself to the bathroom to force everything out – head throbbing from the pressure, and little red dots appearing around my eye.

The one on the left side is me – obviously, the chubbier one. This was taken by a friend using my camera during a camp.

My hand stunk of acid, my mouth feeling dirty. And holding back hot tears as I wondered “What the hell?”

I’ve been struggling with Bulimia for quite some time now, and binging (eating uncontrollably) is a form of “checking out” for me. When I eat, I don’t think about it. It helps me to “check out” from myself and my surroundings. The best way to cope with binging actually is to have a meal plan – which is bloody hard to keep to!

So I hope if you’re reading this and you want to “check out”, please, please, please, wait for a while. Don’t repeat my mistakes…

Hoping you guys have a great day – xoxo jleornie 🙂


I’ve always wanted to start my own blog about my recovery progress. Honestly, there’ve been so many people in my life that played a big part. Even those who hurt me, they’ve made me stronger. 

I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder after my highschool had a tip off from one of my friends that I was suicidal. The day before that, I had confided in my best friend that I was on the verge of jumping off my balcony, 21 floors up. I had suffered Insomnia for 3 years at that point. Sleep was useless for me. I was failing school, I gave up. I knew I was sabotaging my own future at my own cost, but I couldn’t care. I hated waking up everyday. I hated myself. I binge and purge at least three times a day. And my day revolves around the next few 10-15 cuts of 3″ each on my left and right thighs. My day revolves around the next time I bring a cold blade across my thighs and feel the warm blood trickle down. 

After the third suicide attempt – walking in front of  the car, my parents decided it was time to just drag me (kicking and screaming) to the psychiatrist. I was bombarded with medication and I hated it. I took the meds, but it didn’t make a difference. So i stopped taking it. Bad mistake – the depression hit worse.

My parents had the worst time with me. I wouldn’t cooperate with them, why should I? I secluded myself from the world. It took me a long time to understand that it’s not a matter of whether I want to be treated or not, it’s a matter of what happens IF i don’t get treated. I only started recovering when I decided for myself that I was going to do whatever it takes to get this problem fixed. 

This is a journey of my on going process of recovering. It’s been a year since I started the journey, and I’m taking baby steps each time. Most of the time I’m back peddling, but I know that I can re-take those steps again once I’m stronger. Hang on tight as you glide through this process with me, grow with me, recover with me – it’s possible.