Anorexia is hard to talk about, and it sounds so serious and weird. It doesn't wrap up nicely in one blog post. It doesn't have a beginning, a middle and an end. And it CERTAINLY doesn't have a denouement. If this topic gives you this face:
Then ignore this, and go check out some s'mores-related recipes on Pinterest and join us later for an adorable cake.
In light of the discovery of thisishardtowriteabout-itis, I'm starting with a collection of stuff here. I'm sorry it's not neat and clean and organized, but as it turns out, my life isn't always neat and clean and organized. Unless my mother-in-law is coming over. Then I have that shit under control.
- I still sometimes feel nervous about telling people that I was anorexic. It's not because I'm ashamed that I secretly starved myself. It's because I'm afraid they won't believe me, because I'm not skinny enough.
- One of the funny things about how we categorize eating disorders is that we feel that people with low self-esteem have them. This may be true, but eating disorders give you false confidence. In my experience, people told me I looked amazing, guys started paying attention to me, friends expressed envy of how I managed to get so thin. That's powerful stuff.
- Anorexia is an addiction, like alcoholism. I feel like no matter how long I go without starving myself, I will always be a 'recovering anorexic'.
- I thought for a really long time that it would go away if I just ignored it and didn't deal with the root of the problem. I was super wrong.
- Recovering, really recovering, makes me feel like this:
Everything is new and weird, and sort of scary. But kind of fun.
- My biggest tool of recovery is saying destructive thoughts out loud to Steven, like, 'I don't feel like eating today' or 'I'm mad and it makes me want to skip dinner'. Then we talk about it. It sounds so silly and basic, but that's it. No hiding, no secrets.
- Every time I say the words aloud, "I used to be anorexic", it has a little less power over me.