Many nights, I would cave from the pressures of teenage life and eat an entire bag of chocolates, only to purge it all minutes later.
On particularly low nights when bulimia just didn't do it's job well enough, I would cut into my thighs to feel a physical pain to mask my emotional pain.
I thought about suicide a few times but it wasn't something I ever really considered because in my optimistic mind, "What if tomorrow is better than today?" and luckily, there were many of those better days ahead.
Outside of my home, I lived a life of happiness where everyone assumed I was free from pain. I secretly purged a lot of meals or starved myself to try and become the girl I wanted to be and my obsession with bulimia grew.
At least that's what I thought I was doing when I thought this was what control felt like.
After Peter walked out on me with words that cut like daggers, I found myself keeping secrets from the world once again. Everyone assured me how strong and amazing I was but I knew they were wrong because they had no idea.
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No one understood. How could they? Because how could I possibly not be taking care of myself when I need to take care of me in order to care for my kids?
Selfishness. I must be so utterly selfish that I would obsess over my eating to deal with the hurt in my heart. My main focus should be my childrens' pain. I shouldn't be ruining my health for a cause that won't bring me a lasting happiness.
Stupidity. Everyone knows it's stupid to starve yourself or cause yourself to vomit on purpose. It's just stupid. There can't be a good enough reason to do that.
I wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough for him and I'll make sure I'm good enough the next time. I'll be damned if a man will ever leave me again!
I'm in control. I'm controlling what I eat, when I eat, and if I eat too much, I'll just control the hell out of that too. It's all in my control. No one gets to tell me what to do and my eating disorder cannot abandon me like he did.
Let's go ahead and put the focus on that control a little bit.
What am I controlling?
At first, I thought I was completely in control of my weight loss and everything this has entailed. I told my counselor that it wasn't a problem because I wasn't afraid, I was in charge this time.
Our dialogue has stayed open about this for months because I wanted to show her I was right. I mean, look at me! Thirty pounds is kind of a big deal when you're overweight and feeling worthless beyond worthless.
But a few months ago, she gave me a challenge to eat one meal a day---one simple meal. I did it successfully for a few days before getting angry and reverting back. I was losing my control!!! I needed my "choice" to not eat.
Soon after, my obsession grew so much that I feared passing out at the gym one day. But I was still in control!
I came to a point last month where I started fearing the very thing I thought I loved.
Now this is an extremely hard thing to talk about because it isn't a story about back in the day. It isn't something I once struggled with and can now talk about because it's all over.
My eating disorder is a constant companion and I lose almost every day. I can't tell you that I'm always fighting because right now, I'm not. But I'm starting to grasp how NOT in control I am and I don't like being out of control.
That is my start. That is where I focus because focusing on the entire healing process is overwhelming. I can't do this all at once and I can't even do it one step at a time. Right now, I take 1/4 steps or maybe 1/2 steps. I do little things to off set what my brain tells me is the right choice.
Control is lost on me and that puts me in a shame spiral. How stupid that I chose this. How stupid that I can't stop it. How stupid that I'm not strong enough. How stupid that I'm still overweight.
Shame is a nasty thing and it accompanies my eating disorder. It always has.
Today I will try not to shame myself. And someday, I hope to be able to tell you that things are good.
In the meantime, don't worry too much about me. I'm getting help in all the right places and that is a very hopeful thing.
One day at a time, Wendy. One day at a time.
You are not alone. Hang in there.
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