To my ED:
I remember the first time I saw you. I remember coming home from school, it was dark in my room, it was the beginning of the new year. I made myself a small bowl of oatmeal because that was the only thing I was "allowed" to eat that day. I stood in front of my mirror, and I saw you. I saw you on my face, neck, chest, wrists, ribs, hips, thighs. I hated you, I hated me for you. My oatmeal went cold, and I threw it away. I never ate that day. I cried myself to sleep, hoping that when I woke up in the morning I would feel better and that you would just go away.
That never happened.
You took shelter in a home of a girl that was already falling apart. I was 260 pounds at the age of 14, I just wanted to be happy and healthy. I was already disappointed with myself enough, I never wanted to starve myself, or make myself throw up, or exercise for four or more hours a night to get rid of the granola bar I ate that day, and then some. They teach us about you in health classes, they tell us that if you do x, y, and z, you have an eating disorder. What they don't teach us is about the nights you've made me stay up sobbing and hating myself. What they don't teach us about you is that you made standing in front of a mirror impossible, that I couldn't even look at myself without grabbing parts of me, wishing they would vanish. What they don't teach us is that you will make me keep things from my parents and I will have to make them suffer with me, even if they don't know why I'm suffering. What they don't teach us about you, is that even after you made me lose over half my body weight, you told me it wasn't enough. You told me that because I can't feel my ribs when I lay myself to sleep each night, I need to try harder. You told me that because my hip bones didn't stick out enough, I need to eat less, even when I wasn't eating at all.
I'll be the first to admit, you're very smart. You took over the body of a young girl who was overweight, no one would think twice about an eating disorder if you're fat, right? Because, everyone just thinks, "she just decided she needed to lose weight." Because after countless family parties, school dances, sleepovers, of hearing, "you look really great, keep it up." You start to believe it yourself. That your ED is good for you, and maybe even not wanting to keep better.
You destroyed me, you broke my spirit. You took the comfort of my own body away from me, the only place I could truly call home. The only body I get in this life, broken, because of you. After an endless amount of mornings before school hunched over the toilet, days of "no thank you, I ate before I came here," weekends spent in pain because I took 10 laxatives at once, nights spent running and "working out" because I needed to punish myself for eating. After a year of suffering, and a year of recovery, I'm here to say that I came out alive.
You completely destroyed who I was, I had to build myself from the ground up again. You made me fearful of who I was and the people around me, you made it nearly impossible to ask for help. But, I am here. And I am proud to say that I have made it past recovery. There are days where you show up on my doorstep, and I almost want to let you in, but I know better now. I know that you and I are a thing of the past, and that you are a demon I have laid to rest.
PSA: Eating disorders and mental illnesses are no joke. Something that I'm able to write about now, when I dealt with it two years ago, still affects me today. It affects what I do, how I treat myself, and the relationships I have with other people. If you or a loved one is battling an eating disorder, I beg you to reach out. I promise it gets better, it's easier said than done, but please, reach out. I've watched over 400 sunsets since the last time I purged. Someone loves you.
