Recovery

Knowing Yourself To Recovery

If I had a dollar for every time I have been asked what my 'background' is, I'd be rich.
Growing up as a racially ambiguous person with a white mother and a black father, I more
often than not got looks of confusion or even asked if they’re my real parents. During my
teenage years it was especially difficult figuring out my own self-identity as a mixed person
who ‘didn’t look mixed’ as well as accepting the changes happening to my body.

Learning to Love Food

As someone who struggled with ED for about seven years, food was my enemy for quite some time. In my sickest days food was to be avoided at all costs. Social events were turned down because I didn’t know how to avoid eating. Family celebrations were no longer enjoyable because I might be forced to eat. I began running out of excuses for why I couldn’t eat. Day and day, the desire to remain thin filled my mind. Gaining weight and eating were simply not options. Was I happy? No, of course not, but I couldn’t tell anyone.

Free to be ME, not ED!

At times when I was very ill, I made every effort to avoid food. It was normal to throw it out or lie to my friends and family about having eaten, However this was against my personal values. I would have never imagined that I would throw food out when there were people in the world who couldn’t find food to eat. I never thought I would lie to my loved ones! Yet, here I was, doing these things. Why? What was happening to me?

Two to Tango

The weigh in has to be, like most things in my life, perfect. I walk to the scale, carefully being watched by the nurse assigned to observe. I pull in all my breath and step onto the scale, eyes glued to the numbers facing me. I needed a perfect number to get weekend pass. I needed to leave this place. I needed perfection. The number reached its stopping point, one pound short of my goal for that day. Ms. Perfect on my one shoulder leapt forward, screaming failure, while Ed on my other shoulder jumped for joy at still having control.

My eating disorder was not a bid for attention, it was a mental illness

All survivors have their war stories and I am no exception. In my case, the battlefield was my body and the enemy was the bully in my head, the mean girl who told me I was fat. Today she is known as #Mia – Twitterspeak for bulimia.

My eating disorder wasn’t a phase. It was a disease born in the corners of my mind that caused me to cycle through endless episodes of bingeing, purging and starvation. I could talk to no one about Mia, because the injurious words that she could wield were still better than the label I would be assigned if anyone knew my secret.

Body Exposure

I’ve struggled with accepting my body the way it is now, and at times I still do. It can be hard for someone with an eating disorder to see and feel their body changing. This is made worse when I feel full after eating, if I wear clothes that feel a little too tight, or if I am having a bad day and look in the mirror.

Breaking up with Ed

If you’re struggling with an eating disorder, you may be able to relate to constantly feeling numb. Personally, making decisions and identifying my feelings became so difficult in my state of neutrality that I wasn’t really living, I was merely coasting. While this blog post may not reign true for all individuals suffering from an eating disorder, this is my story on how I am recovering from anorexia. It took time, but learning to accept love is what wrenched me out of the depths of my eating disorder and back onto stable ground.

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