The Strength of an Eating Disorder

This is going to be a really honest post, I'm going to say that upfront so if you aren't in the mood for honesty that you can choose to skip this post. One of the requests on what I blog about was to just write about me, be honest, share my thoughts and feelings and people will read it. That's what I am doing today, sharing a darker side of recovery that is often just glanced over. I have to write this post because I no longer know who to go to anymore and I need to get it all out in one place other than my therapist's office.

My eating disorder is so strong. It is loud and mean and hateful and full of anger and currently it has me under whip and chain and is beating me to death. It hates going to Renfrew for 12 hours a week, it hates living at home with my parents, it hates when I try to do what I'm suppose to do with my meal plan. It constantly reminds me that I failed at going to school in Austin, that I failed at friendships, that I failed at living on my own and how I have now been forgotten by all my friends that I made because the only reason they were friends with me in the first place was because they felt obligated to take care of me and now that I'm gone they can dust me off their shoulders and move on with their lives. He tells me that Phi Lamb loves my sister more because she isn't sick and falling apart like I was when I was there and in leadership. He reminds me all the time that everyone is out together living life while I sit alone at home. There isn't a point to get involved at UNT or make new friends because I'll only use them for my eating disorder and to get attention. I should stop going to church because I'm just as alone there as I am sitting in my room. I should stop trusting Jesus because I am incapable of accepting His grace and love. Basically, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week I am reminded by my eating disorder how much of a failure at life I am. I've failed my parents, my sister, my friends both old and new and myself AND how I've failed him (the eating disorder).

There are no manuscripts for recovering from an eating disorder but I will tell you right now, it is miserable. They keep telling me it takes time and it's worth it and I'm just in a slump but I don't know anymore. I have so much anger built up in me that I don't know what to do with myself. I'm angry at the people who are going to Austin Stone on campus tonight at UT, I'm angry at UNT for sending me a flyer in the mail telling me I am qualified to get my UNT class ring, I'm angry at my parents for their love and support that I mistake as control and I'm angry at myself for ruining my one shot at life. I'm angry at God for putting me in this dark hell, where I feel more alone than I have EVER felt in my life! I'm angry at Him for giving me peace about moving home and transferring to UNT but to only feel more pain and hurt. I'm angry at all the people who tell me that I can do this and this is possible and that I just need to change my attitude and choose whether I want to live in my eating disorder or live a life of joy.

Unless, you have been in a place where you personally have had to recover from an addiction than I'm sorry but currently I don't want to hear about me having to change my attitude and choose to eat the meal because it is so much more than that. My eating disorder is strong, stronger than I ever realized it was and it is over powering me both mentally, physically AND emotionally. I don't see a life without an eating disorder, I don't. Any light that was starting to shine through is no longer there and honestly, that makes me want to just accept the fact that it is what it is and make do with my eating disorder being in my life. If we're being honest that is what I believe I deserve.

I am angry and tired and alone. I keep running up against this wall that leads to all of this shit (that I just talked about) which then leads me to use my eating disorder even more, which then leads to weight loss and a scared dietitian. Then you start hearing the words, day-treatment and residential being thrown around and you shit your pants a little because you thought you were finished with all of that. But you then hear a voice saying, "oh no, you aren't nearly close to done with this process. I'm still here and strong and no one is going to stop me and make me leave because the only way you can be successful in life and be loved and accepted by others is with me and without food." And I believe him. The sad thing is I then believe that voice because I'm too exhausted of fighting and losing that surrendering sounds so comforting.

So that is where I'm at. In a shit hole basically. Having to drink a freaking supplement every night and having to get my parents to sign my meal plan sheet like a first grader getting their behavior chart signed. This is what I want people to see and read when they are thinking about skipping the meal or purging the food or staying on the treadmill an extra X amount of minutes, I want them to think of this post. The hell that is waiting for you at the end of your sprint, the end of your purge and at the start of your hunger pains in the pit of your stomach. If I had known this was to come back in high school there is no way I would have chosen this route. So I beg of anyone who is on the verge of the slippery slope, back away now and don't turn around to take a second glance at what you're leaving because I promise you that you are running away from hell.