Ah, if only it were that easy to rid oneself of anorexia . . .
"You are not some brave Victorian heroine, sighing and weeping and fainting on a couch. You have simply found a powerful way to manipulate others and get attention. In someone of your age, class and intelligence it is truly a disgrace. say it how it is. You have wasted a good life and that is criminal." Anonymous
This comment was left by yet another brave anonymous poster. Someone who thinks anorexia is just a creation of my craven attention-seeking nature. Someone who believes that eating disorders are not real illnesses, but instead something each one of us has control over and can overcome if we would just stop being so silly and selfish. Someone without the guts to leave her real name. Pardonnez moi while I swoon onto my divan and call one of the servants over to fan my prostrate body.
Oh yes, anonymous, I've enjoyed these years of anorexia tremendously. I loved it when I had to spend two weeks in the hospital with a line running through my vein to my heart because I was so malnourished. It was great to go in and out of the hospital five more times two years ago when anxiety over eating and weight had me crawling the walls and literally pulling my hair out. I thought it wonderful when mere restricting wasn't enough and one evening I found myself slashing my skin, so angry at myself for having anorexia, so full of self-hatred I couldn't stop myself. The insertion of the NG feeding tube through my nose in February didn't bother me at all; I enjoyed choking on my own bile as the technician poked the tube down my throat and into my stomach for more than forty-five minutes.
Oh yes, anonymous, all this fainting and swooning has been a real blast. Do you know what happened to me yesterday? I woke up and reached for my robe, only to blackout and crash face-first into my nightstand, hitting it so hard that everything on it scattered throughout my bedroom and the contents inside all slid back. I ended up with a bump on my head, and spent the day with a headache and nauseated so bad I couldn't eat much even if my mind would have let me. I guess I just don't know how to swoon gracefully, which is strange because I've been practicing so hard, with all the recent dizziness and lightheadedness.
I'm sure while you enjoyed Thanksgiving Day you never gave a thought about those of us who struggle not only with either not being able to eat or binging and purging, but also that those of us with eating disorders realize that many people believe it is all our fault and we aren't struggling with a real illness at all. That was the first day I blacked out and fell head-first down our staircase, and spent Thanksgiving Day on the couch thankful I hadn't broken any bones or didn't have a concussion.
Oh, but wait. Why didn't I go to the hospital? After all, the emergency room is the ultimate for those seeking attention. The nurse spends lots of time asking you questions and showing concern, and most of the doctors are kind and attentive. Damn, I missed the perfect opportunity! (And I didn't go yesterday. Do you want to know why? Because I didn't want to bother the ER with my minor issues, feeling they have more important things to treat than just a woman crashing into her nightstand.)
Anonymous, you imply you have a physical illness that is possibly fatal and untreatable. Let's see — anorexia and other eating disorders also are illnesses that can be fatal and treatment often fails. Ever heard of Karen Carpenter? Christy Henrich? Margaux Hemingway? Each one of these gifted women died too soon of an eating disorder.
And you don't know a damn thing about me. I am a former social worker and journalist who has won numerous awards, including the Distinguished Service Medal (the highest civilian honor given by the military) for my work in covering the local military's deployment, and I am currently a freelance writer and graduate student in English Communication and Composition carrying a 3.8 GPA in spite of the fact I haven't been well for the past year. I have a wonderful husband and great, caring friends and family, and I hope some day to recover and use my writing and other skills to help others. Sounds like a wasted life to me.
But probably none of that matters to you. I think your real problem is envy. As I wrote, I will pray for you.
Anonymous, you remain wrapped in your protective cocoon of self-righteousness and continue to pass judgement on people and illnesses that you obviously don't have the capability to understand. But the next time you post on my damn blog, at least have the guts to leave your real name. Otherwise don't bother.
Now, excusez moi while I try to recover while surrounded by ignorant, uncaring people like you.