It’s not worth the home cooked meal


I had a eating disorder anonymous meeting this evening where someone asked the question about how to get pass only seeing the good your eating disorder has done when you can’t see the benefits of recovery and one person made an analogy that really stuck with me. She had that years ago her mom battled cancer, she was really sick, really weak and miserable but from her family and friends she got oodles of support and free meals. She said her mom loved the free meals, and the cards but that doesn’t mean that she would want cancer again. There are benefits to having an eating disorder, I will admit. The compliments of weight lose, the high of restriction and the release you feel when you purge are pretty awesome and it helps you cope with your chaotic life. It works, if it didn’t work than eating disorders wouldn’t be a thing. What I have to remember is, although helpful, it is extremely MALADAPTIVE and not worth it.

No size jean is worth having to fake a smile, no number is worth losing the trust, the respect, the ability to live like being in this disorder is. It was humiliating having to email my residents telling them where I was going, it was humiliating having to cry over a salad and having your meals monitored. My dad has cancer and I can barely remember anything that has happened to him in the past few months because I was so malnourished and unaware. I still know the main concepts, but do I have a memory that involves conversations, details or mentally images? Nope. How sad is that? My dad is dying and these are the times I should be cherished and a lot of his illness is a blur. I’m not trying to say that my life is carefree and I am living on a rainbow. I made the decision on going to Greensboro Wednesday and I am honestly thinking of not going anymore because I’m not ready. That’s heartbreaking to me, knowing that it is something that I want to do but I am not ready for it. I could cope with my eating disorder, but where would that lead me? I promise you with every ounce of me that what I went through mentally and physically on a day to day basis is in no way worth going back to for a number. God, I could truly go on and on about all the things this disorder made me do that either I have been open with or too ashamed to say that, in this moment, I never want to go back to.

So often, I forget that what I am actually dealing with is a disease that is fatal. Although mine deals mentally, it is no different that if I had something else that was killing me. Except this disease blinds me, makes it think this is the way that we are supposed to be feeling, when in reality we feel like shit. Sometimes I can’t see past the ‘free meal’ and acknowledge that reality of what I am putting myself through. I am going to be honest with my struggles and integrity check with you. Sunday, I was really struggling with the changes in my body and accepting them so I (and by I, I mean my eating disorder) deciding to take a laxative. Emphasis on the ‘a’ and lack of ‘s’. While I was in my eating disorder, I would take handfuls of diuretics, laxatives, and diet pills multiple times a day so the fact that I resorted to one is kind of a big jump. But with that one laxative, I felt like shit. It was terrible and I was like “How the HELL did I do this to myself everyday for months?”.

I don’t know what the future holds but right now, in this moment, I am so happy that I am in recovery. I am so happy that my reality isn’t Anorexia anymore and I am so happy that I can live again, smile again, laugh again, sleep again, and be a human being that isn’t dead again. Truly, the worst day in recovery is no where near as bad as your worst day in your eating disorder. 

Also, my goal this week was to not act on any behaviors….and I haven’t. Purge free, bitches!

Keep fighting, my recovery kittens

Peace and Blessings


Friend tip: the more you stare at your plate, the bigger it gets. 


One response »

  1. I needed this. Moments away from purging… I needed this. I needed this reminder! Thank you friend! Peace and blessings.

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