Its looking at your reflection in the mirror in disgust, and desperately wishing you could change your body to measure up to some twisted definition of beauty. Its working so hard to keep that voice in your head satisfied, the voice that tells you if you listen to its endless demands, that you might eventually be worth something. Its trying to make people believe that you’re doing fine, when all you’re really doing is planning your next lie. It’s hating birthdays and Christmas and thanksgiving and Easter because all they seem to revolve around is food. It’s declining invitations to go out with friends and family because you’re scared about what you’ll eat. It’s having a constant calculator in your head adding up the calories of what you’ve eaten and a voice telling you how many more you’re allowed to have. It’s exercising in your room past midnight, hoping that somehow that’ll make you feel better about yourself. It’s anger at family and friends for trying to help. It’s being so exhausted from the war in your head that you stay in bed for days. It’s isolating yourself from friends because your time is consumed with the eating disorder.
It’s tears and frustration and sadness- every single day. It is striving to be empty but not seeing or believing that by trying to live on an empty stomach, you’re actually dying, and emptying your life of happiness. It’s living life unloved, and feeling unworthy of anything else.
It’s tears and frustration. It’s dietician appts and drs appts and counseling appts. It’s feeling like your whole day every day is consumed by planning preparing and eating meals. It’s fighting back at the voice that still tries to control your life. It’s getting rid of old clothes you wore before you started recovery. It’s learning to let go of the control you thought you had. It’s hard work.
But it’s also, glimpses of hope. It’s rebuilding friendships. It’s enjoying Christmas and your birthday and thanksgiving a little bit more than previous years. It’s looking forward to what’s next instead of dreading it. It’s eating when you’re hungry and stopping when you’re full. It’s relearning that life is more than counting calories. It’s learning and relearning that you’re worth the work it takes to become healthy again. It’s believing that recovery is possible.
Being empty and small isn’t something to strive for.
We deserve to live. The eating disorder deserves to die.
You only have one life. Live loved.