The Journey Begins

I am not recovered. Not yet, at least. Right now I am recovering.

My eating disorder has affected my life in every single way. Whether I knew it or not. My eating disorder was alway with me. From the day I started hiding food and throwing it away when I was really young to continuing behaviors as a means of control or coping until I was 22. My relationship with food was never healthy. I was underweight from the day I was born, malnourished, and I shouldn’t have survived. I did. However, I survived with anorexia and almost died from anorexia.

I didn’t choose to have an eating disorder. I didn’t choose to be born underweight. I didn’t choose to go through traumatic events.

I didn’t choose it.

I didn’t choose it.

I didn’t choose it.

I tell myself that everyday.

I was deep in my eating disorder and trained my brain to use restriction as a coping mechanism. I trained my body to not want food. I shrunk my stomach. When the behaviors started, I didn’t stop right away, and the disorder eventually consumed my every thought, every move, every bite, and I started believing the lies the disorder was telling me. I was seeing through the lens of an eating disorder.

You’re fat. People won’t like you if you aren’t skinny. You don’t need to eat that. You don’t need to eat today. Take a bite. Throw it away. Take a bite. Give the rest to someone. Take a bite. Feel guilty and resent yourself for eating. Belittle yourself because that’s what you deserve. Restrict. Restrict. Restrict. Look at the scale. Too high. Restrict. Restrict. Restrict. You aren’t beautiful. You aren’t smart. You aren’t good enough. If you don’t eat, people will like you. You’ll fit the image that people have of you. You’re little. That’s who you are. Don’t change that. Restrict. Restrict. Restrict.

I took pride in being able to starve myself for days. It was addicting. I had survived this many days without eating or maybe only eating one meal, what’s one more day? I took pride in how skinny I was. I thought that’s what defined me. Without my eating disorder who am I?

In high school after volleyball games we would go out to eat as a team. I rarely would eat. I would say I wasn’t hungry. At home, I would say I ate. With friends I would say do you want the rest of this?  I taught my brain to turn off hunger cues. When? I don’t know. Over time. I rewired my brain and body to constantly be in fight or flight mode. 24/7. My body kept fighting with the little energy it was receiving until one day it stopped fighting. One day it wanted me to realize how much it was hurting. I ignored those cues. I was fine. Passing out happens. I’m invincible. I’m still alive, right? I started eating a little more to get my body back to “normal.” My normal. Added a meal or snack here and there. Just enough to keep myself afloat. But not enough for noticeable changes. Had to keep that flat stomach. I had to keep my weight under a specific number. I weighed myself multiple times a day. Making sure I wasn’t giving myself too much food.

I was fine.

Fine meant hurting, self-hatred, suicidal, lying, failing, depressed, disconnected, dying inside.

I had my eating disorder and it was fulfilling my needs. It numbed me. It was my secret. My eating disorder said I was fine. My eating disorder controlled my life. That is the eating disorders goal. It wants nothing more than to control every aspect of your life. I wanted something to control and in turn it controlled my life even more.

They say it’s not about the food, it’s about the food. In the grand scheme of everything, it isn’t about the food. My eating disorder covered up the pain and struggles that were going on. It was a coping mechanism to deal with my reality. However, it ruined my relationship with food. It ruined my life.

I didn’t choose anorexia.

I am choosing to face my demons.

I am choosing to face my trauma.

I am choosing to rebuild my relationships.

I am choosing to do the hard work.

I am choosing to fight against the eating disorder.

I am choosing to find my self-worth.

I am choosing to find my identity without an eating disorder.

I am choosing recovery.

              And one day I will be recovered.