What I wish everyone else understood sometimes

another -brief- but intense relapse (yup- as predicted, hence the break in posting)

purging (after I had been doing so well for so long-i am so ashamed), starving, walking, walking, walking....

Together again with my head straightened on. I have an appointment with a nutritionist next week. Hopefully that will help me towards this goal of recovery without relapse.

the trigger this time? The weightlifting I was doing and being weighed at the doctors. I have gained the 10 pounds that was my goal- no increase in clothing sizes- just weight gain. But seeing it on the scale still entered my psyche and did it's damage in the evil way that only Ed can do. I had hoped I would be strong enough to deal with the weight gain. But I was wrong.

Obviously I'm not as recovered as I thought I was. I thought I was ready to do the weightlifting. But I can't do it yet without more support.
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But I was thinking tonight, sometimes it's hard to share with others because of the way they look at us, and think of us, once they know the truth.

First,
The eating disorder is described as self absorbed and childish. So many times it is referred to as a disorder of "emotional immaturity". This writing, this description, while useful sometimes to both the clinician and the patient also is harmful to both I believe. While there are elements of truth in this, that have helped in all aspects of my recovery, there are semantic issues that arise from this as well. There is an aspect of it that implies a childish desire to be sick sometimes.

What I wish the world understood is that I do not choose this pain. I do not choose to carry this. I know the enemy is myself, I do not blame others, or point fingers. But I do not choose this. If I could walk away I would. It is the truest example of what a mental illness is. It is painful and crippling, it is illogical, and at times I can not control it, no matter how hard I try. Nobody chooses this kind of pain. I believe and sense sometimes in talking to younger women with the disorder, that there are stages that they go through, where there is an attention seeking function served by the disorder, but for those of us now, in our adult years. The hideous shame and secretness of the disorder should speak for itself.

Second,
I want you to know what it is like to be me. To understand the pain of my existence. Living in my body is torture. I am trapped inside a heavy, sweaty gargantuan fat suit. I do not know, want, connect, respect, own, this body that I live in. I barely tolerate it. If you lived like this, you would feel the same way. I am sure of it. The small comments that family have made over the years, regarding fluctuations in weight, have more hurtful effects than anyone can ever imagine to those of us who are already carrying this extreme pain around with us.


Third,
Eating disorders do not need a name, a body size, a clinical pattern. If I look healthy, or if I look overweight, will you believe me if I tell you eat 500-800 calories a day for three-four weeks at a time? Will you care? Will you suggest maybe it's a good idea? If I do not jog 4 miles a day anymore, but I have arthritis and sometimes I sneak in a run when my doctors order me not to, will you consider that exercise bulimia? Because I have never binged, but I purge, I am not bulimic. Because I am not underweight, I am not anorexic. And within the eating disorder online communities of self help, you find those that will competitively compare the severity of their behaviors to each other, and expell those from the groups if their behaviors are not as clinical as theirs. There is a world of people who suffer, who do not identify, who do not own what they do to their bodies, because they do not fall under the right categories. Not only are we not good enough human beings with beautiful enough bodies, but we aren't even good enough anorexics/bulimics.