the thing about my eating disorder
The thing about my eating disorder is that even though the physical actions of the disorder ceased years ago, the mind battle is so very present on a day-to-day, and sometime moment-to-moment basis. Some days, I find myself knee deep in the murky battlefield, struggling to find relief.
And yes, I know what some of you are thinking, "What do you have to worry about? You're thin." I know I'm thin. This has nothing to do with being thin.
Nearly everyday, I receive comments about how quickly I lost the baby weight or how people can't believe my body could ever birth four babies or how I need to be eating more to sustain Birdie, and the list goes on and on. The comments, as kind as they are, attack me at my very core because no matter how hard I try, I cannot see what others see. They see the real me. But when I look in the mirror, I see the me plus twenty fictitious pounds.
I never know what to say when people talk to me about my weight. Ninety five percent of them have no knowledge of my prior eating disorder, and they in no way mean to hurt me by showering me with compliments, but for some reason, their comments make my insides ache, and sometimes boil. I usually reply, "My mom gave me her thin frame, and I'm a runner." But the questions and comments continue. The more they ask, the more I shut down.
Eating disorders are a lifetime struggle for most people, whether they struggle with overeating, anxious eating, eating too little, or purging. Even if a person is seemingly healthy in the eyes of medical professionals or society, no one knows how dark it feels on the inside. I can't really describe the darkness, mostly because it isn't always present, but when it is, it is suffocating. Lately, I have been avoiding all mirrors. It started a little over a month ago when a few women really badgered and belittled me about my weight, and I came home to see someone very different in the mirror. I burst into tears and fell face first on my bed to collect myself so my kids wouldn't know something was wrong.
I'm not sure there is a resolution to this post because I am struggling to find one, but I just wanted to write my thoughts down because surely there must be someone else out there that feels this way. In my perfect world, no one would care what one another looks like. I'd hope we could look past outward appearances and just find beauty in all its forms. It amazes me how quickly I can see beauty in art or in the world around me, but I struggle to find it in myself, even if I look for hours.
I wish this disease on no one. No one.
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