Want is such a strange word for me to use. Admitting I want anything seems like a weakness- wanting food, comfort, sex. Admitting my feelings also feels like a weakness- being angry, upset, or even happy. Why is my world so upside-down.
Why can't I go back to this past year! Freedom from my parents- my first and constant trigger of my eating disorder. I had my boyfriend- my reason for life, my rock, my reasoning. Everything was amazing. I discovered myself, in small spurts, but I still did. I learned what hunger was, to feed my body what it needed. I didn't count calories- that part o my life was behind me. I asked for things I Wanted, not even neccessarily needed, though it took me some time to get used to that and even still get embarrassed asking today. I started allowing myself to deal with my feelings. Walking out if I was mad because I was allowed to have that feeling. Crying if I was upset and admitting my weaknesses. Talking to my boyfriend of fears I had about my future, my eating disorder creeping up (but never taking hold), and school work. I dealt with the stress of school and worked hard! Being a perfectionist I was upset at my only B+ but eventually dealt with what I saw as a failure and learned no one was perfect.
In my spring semester though nutrition came along. I was told to count my calories, my fats, my grains, my dairy, my everything. I decreased my calories so I could brag I didn't need them. I liked the circle around my calorie count in red pen from the teacher. Spring break came along and went home to my parents. Discovered a loss in pounds and secretly thinking yay! I went back to school and tried skipping meals and jump back into my ED, do my disappearing act. But my boyfriend noticed and I snapped out of it. Why would I do that. I continued my healthy ways. I poured too much cereal in my bowl at breakfast cause I didn't care. I bought what I wanted at lunch. I put out ideas for where To go for dinner or what to make. I even asked for dessert. But summer came too quickly.
Triggering parents on diets, mom throwing up after meals because her lap band won't let the bread pass to her stomach, and dad complaining about his neck/belly/job/weight. How was I supposed to stay healthy with the scale down the hall. How was I supposed to peal away the Ana/Mia thinking when it was so encouraged even if they didn't mean it? My rock and reasoning was gone busy with work and house work- not with me 24/7. I lost my footing and fell. I've lost and gained back and forth. And as summer continued I hated my body more and more and began purging again and binging and then purging. I hate purging.
I'm going to school again- different campus, different classes, different friends, different experience. I'm scared. I'm scared my anorexia will take full force or that I'll puke at every meal. I'm afraid I'll eat my way into a comma. Who knows what will happen. I'm
thankful I had that year of health and happiness. I only hope for a life of that. I'm trying. Who knows. This is uncharted territory and I'm taking a leap.
Allee