I am not defined by my eating disorder. Who knew? I thought it was some huge secret, some life changing defining moment-maybe it's not. Perhaps it was only an outlet to handle another life changing, defining moment. I gave a talk to the youth once about Anorexia the thing I hated the most at that point was fitting into some statistic about how many teens have "______" and "_____". I hated that I was one, am one still. Now I'm just one of how ever many twenty somethings that is still dealing with it. But it's not a huge deal. I've learned how to handle it. I try not to know about how much I currently weigh. I try not to stop myself from occasionally indulging in an extra sweet, that is easier somehow when I am alone.
It still is an issue, just yesterday I work I got judged for eating a fried chicken sandwich with a side of gummy bears. I noticed a smug smile and a shake of a head across the table. I knew what was going on and I actually had the guts to say "What is it?". Only to get a short " I don't know how you can stay so small and eat like that". My head was screaming BITE ME, I took a lot to let myself buy the stupid gummy bears and the only reason I did was because I has a coupon for a free $5 meal in the caf and I wanted to get my money's worth. I broke 100 pounds at 18. I am still only around 108, fully dressed. When I weigh myself, I always hope it is below 105. I am beyond the point in my life where I went to bed hungry, crying because my acid was eating away my esophagus. I am beyond having to take a beta blocker to control my heart's arrhythmia. I am beyond having fur on my face (though some of that has hung around). Yet I still get very anxious about weight about brownies about my jeans not fitting the same.
I have to make myself eat enough, eat enough protein and vitamins. Having a husband to cook for is probably saving me from weighing 90-something. Without him I would most likely eat like a vegetarian with the occasional chicken breast. It sometimes feels gross to cook animals and eat them. I think that I would be happier if I missed a meal. I rationalize eating less for dinner if I ate a bad lunch.
But here is the big news. I told my story, my testimony this week and I left out my anorexia. What does that mean exactly? I'm not over it. It is still my dirty little secret. It shocks people when I mention it. But I overlooked it? How? Maybe the rest of my life made a bigger impression on me. Perhaps I am still belittling it.
I don't know what it means exactly.
