by Andrea Shay
Disclaimer: This piece may be triggering to some readers.
One day I hope I’ll realize that hunger isn’t comforting. Silence isn’t safety. And pain isn’t the only reminder I have that I am indeed ” alive”. These feelings are my current reality. The heartbreaking realization that I’ve once again sunk back into my anorexia.
“My anorexia.” I find it interesting that after a decade I’m still protecting the very thing that is killing me. You see, anorexia has taken things from me, things that I can never get back. Two years of college, my current self worth, and a pregnancy are just a few. Yet, I still have to protect my Ana. She has always been there for me, to comfort me and remind me that in this life she will always be there reminding me that no one else will protect me like she does. If that’s true, why is she killing me? Why is she blinding me with a jaded lens of lies? I question her and her intentions but still follow suit.
This is how I know that I have relapsed. This is how I know that I need to face another round of treatment. Recovery is the thought I have often. Happiness is the feeling I think about and try to remember how it felt. Freedom is an entity that I’ve never really experienced. I am scared to find out who I am without anorexia and the structure and comfort she has given me. But, I know it’s time to try.