Hello, Ed

Fighting is hard.
I feel this sense of pressure that I'm supposed to be fighting for myself every day and a lot of times, it's too much. It is too damn much.

People say I'm strong. I even say I'm strong. But at night, when I think back on the day and the amount of times I gave in to my eating disorder, I realize just how weak I am.

I don't know if the trauma from the past month has made it worse but I feel like Wendy all of the time these days---obsessing over my food intake, purging many times a day, looking in the mirror and seeing fat fat fat fat fat fat fat and a whole lot of ugliness, weighing myself in the morning and wanting to throw the scale out the effing window.

I act like I'm fine. Am I fine? I feel fine. I feel like this is who I'm supposed to be. I feel like if I can just lose weight, I'll be happier than ever before. I believe that. I remember last March/April when I was going to the gym daily and starving myself or obsessively purging. I was beginning to look better. I was beginning to feel in control while simultaneously getting out of control---irony? Sure.

I think that's the thing I hate most about eating disorders. I crave the control but after a while, I lose control. But in a weird twisted way, the loss of control also feels good because my brain is saying, "This is what you've wanted! This is total commitment and you will love yourself soon.".

Soon?
When does "soon" happen? Does it end with the specific amount of weight I've dubbed as "worthy" of my approval? Or will the number just get lower each time I reach a goal?

I don't know. She used to tell me it never ended, that I'd never be satisfied. But I don't believe her. My brain doesn't believe her. It believes Ed.

Ed hasn't ever left me the way other people have. Ed hasn't ruined my life. In fact, he tries to fix my flaws and I like that. I like that when I give in to my eating disorder, I'm fixing myself to become more worthy of life and love and happiness.

My counselor pointed out that I've always equated my worth to weight and that is true. It feels like the two things go hand in hand for me. Do I think that about everyone around me? No. But for myself, weight matters.

If I was skinny, my stupid flaws and mistakes could be overlooked by someone. This is just logical to me. If I was what the world perceives to be "hot", I would be more attractive and people would want to get to know me better. I feel like this whole "I'm an overweight mother of 2" thing is a real downer for most of the men I meet. Because who would want to take all of that on for someone who looks like me?

I feel oddly out of control and in control right now. I feel like I deserve this, like this is just the life I was meant to live. The aches and pains of an eating disorder are worth it when the numbers on the scale get lower.

With everything going on, this seems like the only little piece of control I can have. Everything else is being pulled out from underneath me. People who I loved no longer love me. I need this. I need Ed.