For a
girl who once lived every single day wondering where, how, when and how much I could
binge and purge so that I could relieve the excruciating pain in my heart and quiet
the noise in my head, it seems strange to say I’m having any trouble at all
with food today. But for a girl who
lived 15 plus years in the throws of bulimia, I can’t afford to decide I’m just
the same as every other woman out there worried about body image and
dieting. This isn’t because I’m such an
abnormal eater today or that I’m in a constant battle with food and weight
because that’s just not true. I enjoy a
great deal of freedom in my meal plan and certainly ‘look’ normal in my
approach to food. People appear almost
shocked when I do share my eating disorder story with them. The reason I cannot afford to say I am a ‘normal’
food person is because that’s just not true either. If I begin to playing with my food, adjusting
portions to fit into a new size jean or feel better around certain people, I’m
playing with my life. If I allow myself
one day of restricting, one binge, one purge, I’m opening a whole box of crazy,
and there’s no telling if it will close again, ever. I know how fast and hard I fall when I go
there and in a very short time most everyone can see I have changed. They might not know it is food that’s striking
me psycho, but they know something is seriously wrong.
So I am
struggling with food lately and it’s really affecting my body image. Interesting now that I wrote that, I don’t
know which came first. You see, my
husband and I moved across town a few months ago, and I have been
uncharacteristically shy around new people since. I feel such a powerful loneliness even when
surrounded by a hundred folks in recovery and I have frozen up and closed
myself off. So I show up and am in my
head at meetings and gatherings thinking that everyone is judging me… BY THE
WAY I LOOK. Danger, Danger,
Danger!!! I don’t know about you but if
people are just going to judge me by what I look like and decide from that if I’m
good enough to talk to, I better look super duper uber HOT!!!! I have no idea how much better I need to look
to get to superduperuber, but I know darn well I’m not even close. That’s enough for me to start the mental
tirade against my own body and overall self worth. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not skinny enough. I’m not fit enough. I’m not good enough. I’m not what I used to be. I’m a failure. I SHOULD FIX THIS. If I can be skinny and fit and drop dead
gorgeous again, THEN people will talk to me and like me and THEN I can be happy
and outgoing again. THEN I can be me again.
The
temptation to actually act on the barrage of criticisms in my head has been extraordinary. I have felt the extra bites, the skipped
breakfasts, the late night eating that I really, really wish would just fix my
discomfort. I want to believe my
screaming head that says I can fix it with food, because that seems the quicker
way. Thankfully, I have been taught to
seek the truth in all things before I act out of desperation and before I go on
a full scale binge or purge or start weighing myself multiple times a day. So, I took some time today to find the truth
through all the bullshit in my brain and found it fairly quickly. The truth is that change is really hard, and
I am uncomfortable. That’s it! I have not recently become ugly or gross or
less than or incapable of forming new friendships. Nothing about the funny, outgoing, grace-filled,
caring, friendly, recovering woman I am has changed. I simply don’t like feeling vulnerable and am
afraid of rejection. Duh, I’m human. So after two weeks of internal turmoil and
self deprecating thoughts, I can see that my perception of myself, my own worth
and my security were knocked off balance by the fear of change. I will ask to be put back to center now and smile
into the mirror a few times today in gratitude of the woman I see looking back.
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