Self-Hatred and Eating Disorders | Surviving ED

Self-Hatred and Eating Disorders | Surviving ED

I Am Me...Not My Eating Disorder | Surviving ED

I Am Me...Not My Eating Disorder | Surviving ED

I choose....Life

And what did being thin bring me?
Not a damn thing.
Except depression.
Anxiety.
A racing heart.
Shattered relationships.
Lost dreams.
And almost...death.

I choose Life.
Screw being a size zero.

After starving myself for days, I went to pick up a prescription.
I was terrified of going out because there is food everywhere.
And all I have thought of for days is FOOD.
Even the soap at Meijer — plum-scented.  — seemed luscious.
I could taste the plum, juice trailing down my chin.
I was afraid I would drink the soap out of desperation.
My mind has been screaming FOOD.

I've been reading Portia de Rossi's Unbearable Lightness, and she wrote about food.
I wanted to jump through the book and eat.
Even the egg whites sounded good.
I don't even like egg whites!
She described portioning out a small amount of sugar-free yogurt.

I shook my head.

Then I ate a cereal bar — crumb by crumb.
A crumb fell on the floor, and before my cat could get it, I pounced on it.
It was mine, damn it!


It was 8:30 p.m. and the pharmacy closed at 9.
Did I dare go?
The pharmacy at Meijer is on the opposite side of the food section, so I thought I would be safe.
Then came the plum-flavored scented soap.
And black cherry...and pomegranate.
Why does everything come back to food???

Then I cried in the parking lot, remember life before.
How engaged I was.
How unafraid I felt.
What had happened?

I drove to a restaurant.
Talked to myself for ten minutes.
Yes. No. Life. Anorexia. Thinness. Food...Turkey burger...a crisp Coke...
AHHHHHHHH!!!!


I went in, full of fear.
I ordered a virgin pina colada (I can't have alcohol, because I'm a recovering alcoholic.)
Cold, creamy.
Coconut with a hint of pineapple.
Luscious.
OMG....
I haven't even had WATER for days.
No wonder I feel so depressed!!!

The turkey burger came.
I was very afraid.
I sucked down the first half.

And imagine...I didn't gain 3456908955442 pounds.
My thighs didn't expand.
I could think again.

Recovery is still hard.
But I have to choose life.
Every day.

You know...

You know, anorexia is not really about being thin. Thin is incidental. It is about control. And self-hatred.

It's about hating oneself so badly you want to hurt.
The pain of hunger.
The pain of emptiness.
The pain of knowing you are lost.

And where am I? Where did I go? So quickly...

Confused

***TRIGGER WARNING***

I'm so confused right now. I'm hearing about size zero or two on the ED blogsphere, and now I'm thinking I'm fat. Before I was happy with my new figure — about 125 pounds and a size seven/small. But now...is that way too fat??? 

I remember when I became sick with hypoparathyroidism in 2008. I was about 130 pounds. Then I dropped to about 105, and a lot of people told me how good I looked, how "slim." Then came anorexia. And hell. And I quickly dropped into the low nineties.

Five years later, I feel like I am finally embracing recovery. It has been hard — I have struggled with anorexia, alcoholism, and drug abuse; I almost died this past fall. Mixing tranquilizers with alcohol. Not eating. Not caring if I lived or died.

And now? I want to be more than just my damn size!!! Recovery has opened a new life for me. A life of books and friends and family. A real life. I am more engaging, more connected to people. I think less  about starving. About drinking. About my size. I am able to think better, and write better.

Or at least I did until this week.

It is funny. The less I eat, the more I think I don't deserve to eat. I spent yesterday with my family, and I was able to relax and finally eat a meal after almost a week. Then I come home, and I fight with myself internally.

I am so frightened right now. I am forty-seven, and I feel this is my last chance at recovery. My body can't handle much more.

If I fail this time, I believe it will kill me.