My disordered relationship with food has been the longest relationship I’ve ever had. We’re going on two decades now. But I’m finally at a place in my life where I’m the one who has more control—most of the time.
It’s been a long journey with a lot of missteps. The good news is, the lows caused by my eating disorder get higher all the time.
After about 20 years of this relationship, I’m ready to share this post, which is a brief history of me, my eating disorders, and this red dress.
This photo popped up on my Facebook feed recently. You know the kind—the ones that make you remember how your gravitational pull used to be thirty pounds lighter, and how that cute little dress you got in China used to look on you, and how happy—oh how utterly happy, and carefree you were!
This photo did immediately make me think that I needed to go on a crash diet to lose 30lbs, well let’s say 40 so I could BEAT my goal weight, and work out twice a day so that I could have more energy—just look at that image—she has so much energy!
It beams from her!
It was only three years ago after all, how could you have let yourself go so quickly
During my first therapy session a few weeks ago, we had started to wrap the conversation up, when my therapist said, “It sounds like you take on the world. You seem to take on everyone else’s problems, and because of that, you never focus on yourself.”
That statement didn’t sit right with me.
I paused and chewed on it while I tried to figure out how to answer.
It wasn’t the first time I had heard that from a clinician or friend, but this time, I wasn’t jumping to say—“Yes! You’re right—that’s exactly what I do. Poor me, right?”
It was a hard week.
My anxiety levels have been so high, I can almost feel my body buzz from an electric current of restlessness.
At work, we’ve entered the busiest time of the year, and although the end is in sight, the thought of all the things that need to happen in the next 9 business days has lit my brain on fire.
I was sixteen the first time I went to a psychiatrist.
I don’t honestly remember the appointment all that well, but I do remember sitting in the waiting room, getting nervous and thinking I was out of place.
I remember a nice blonde lady calling my name, following her to a small office, and then plopping down in front of an empty chair that looked nothing like the fainting couches I had seen on TV.