Failure

I told her in a pretty rude way.

She asked about my eating disorder and I sarcastically gestured to my body. Because if you look at me, it looks like I have not been skipping meals at all.

That was just a short 30 seconds of how my first therapy session in 18 months went.

And it was mostly truthful. Because just considering purging every time I eat doesn't count, right? And sometimes having a day where I don't eat or a day where I do throw up doesn't count, right?

But when I left, I started to actually assess the past few months and how often I have snuck to a bathroom after eating a meal.

I don't like lying to people, mostly because I don't like liars. So when I left that session thinking I might've lied, I was pretty angry at myself.

I'm usually pretty hard on myself after therapy. It's always been that way. Because if I could just be completely real and comfortable and open and serious, maybe I'd leave feeling a weight lifted off my chest.

I've had a few sessions like that in my life.

But they're not often. Because most of the time, I leave therapy the same way I leave MOST situations in my life---thinking of all the things I should've said or could've done, reminding myself how I've once again failed and acted like an idiot.

Is there a point in my life where I'll stop being so hard on myself?

The Catch-22 of all of this is that I'm capable of believing I'm a failure no matter which choice I make.

For example, if I eat a meal and don't purge it, I am a failure for letting myself eat and letting those calories turn into fat, which will inevitably cause me to gain weight and make me less desirable to a possible future spouse.
And if I DO purge after eating, I am a failure for giving in to my eating disorder and being weak and not fighting hard enough to be the best mom for my kids.

So no matter what, I'm a failure here.

And that just plain sucks.