[TW: Eating Disorders]
Her name is Ana, and she was my best friend. The last year and a half of my life has been hard. I lost friends, relationships, school and multiple jobs. My family and some of my closest friends were there for me through it all, and for that, I am eternally grateful. I hope they know how much their support means to me and that my attachment to my eating disorder doesn’t diminish the importance of their support for me.
Because among these losses, these massive changes, Ana was there for me. She was my constant. She was the one telling me that she cared about me and that she would always be there for me. She told me she was taking care of me, that she loved me, and I believed her. But it was the ultimate toxic relationship, and I couldn’t break free of it. She was telling me that she had my best interests at heart, but all she was doing was convincing me to hurt myself. I loved her, lived with her in my head twenty-four hours a day, and I couldn’t break up with her. I believed what she was telling me, and I did everything she wanted.
She told me I was fat. That losing weight was what I needed to be happy. That I wasn’t sick enough to get help. That I didn’t have an eating disorder. That I could go just a little bit longer without eating. That I needed to stay on the elliptical for one more hour. That I needed to go down a pant size. She points to women who are thinner than me, tells me how many calories are in the nineteen Teddy Grahams I had for snack. She tells me today that I used to be so much “healthier”-- but that that “healthy” was me being malnourished, me passing out because I didn’t eat all day. I fondly remember those days sometimes, but now I catch myself and challenge those thoughts.
But even through all of this, I trusted her. She was my constant, the voice in my head that never left. She was there every minute of every day, distracting me from classes, work, pulling me away from my friends and family, trying to make it so that she was the only person in my life. This relationship checks all the boxes of an abusive relationship, right down to the Stockholm syndrome that I loved her and couldn’t break free. I was in a civil war with myself, and it was tearing me apart.
How do you break up with your best friend?
I am reflecting on this today because this week is National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I am reflecting on this today because I choose recovery every bite that I take, every day of the week. Being in recovery doesn’t make the voices go away. I spent months learning how to divorce myself from Ana, learning that all she was doing was hurting me, that losing weight would never truly make me happy. I started to build a new relationship with myself, one where I listened to my body and gave it what it needed. It was often uncomfortable. Some days, I still struggle. I probably will for a long time. Some days, being hungry is my comfort zone. But I commit to doing the opposite of what Ana tells me. I know that my brain needs food. That it is a slippery slope, and if I slip up, it will be easy to slide back into the black hole of my eating disorder.
This week, I want to bring awareness to the reality of eating disorders and help show people what it’s like to live with this civil war sickness. Today I pledge to give my body what I need, and I hope you will too.
