It’s been a year since I found myself in the depths of a raging eating disorder. It almost pains me to glance through my old TimeHop updates and read ridiculous tweets about how I was only going to be eating greek yogurt for the day and how I needed to burn 1,000+ calories only to binge on sushi later on in the evening.
This week marks National Eating Disorders Awareness Week and I felt compelled to write a blog about the struggles that I faced and the struggles that I continue to face.
In February of 2014, I was forcing myself to eat low caloric meals in order to gain some sort of “privilege” that it is to be skinny. I would only allow myself to eat 900-1000 calories a day to get to that goal faster than I had hoped. It didn’t help that one day I would be restricting and the following day I would binge. It was an endless cycle of restricting and bingeing. Thus, I wouldn’t lose weight.
In March of 2014, I finally somehow admitted to myself that I had a problem. That something wasn’t quite right in my brain. That my obsession with food and my obsession with working out were not working harmoniously, but damaging me. Damaging me both physically and mentally.
My therapist had diagnosed me with EDNOS, which is basically like a great mix of all the eating disorders thrown together in one giant clusterfuck. It was time that I take ahold of my eating disorder and not let the eating disorder control me.
I started to read as many books as I possibly could on recovery (although, some of them were “too real” for me to read and I had to put them down). I reached out to my friends who were open about their struggles with eating and exercising. I tried to find my inner strength that told me that I was worth it. I was worth the healthy food I put into my body. I was worth the moderate exercise that I put my body through. The food and exercise were not punishments, but they were nourishment.
I have made immense progress since I last wrote my “manifesto” (of sorts), but I still find myself struggling. There are days where I binge and I feel insanely guilty and I’m filled to the brim with anxiety to the point where I have to take a Klonopin. There are days where I feel somewhat proud that I didn’t eat. Most recently, I didn’t eat for almost a full 48 hours and I felt exhilarated, as fucked up as that is. And there are days where I’m just a normal human being and I workout and eat good meals. The latter happens more frequently than the formers.
Today, I still feel in control, yet out of control. But I’m not giving up. I am fully aware that this demon will be on my heels for the rest of my life, but he won’t catch me. I’m faster and I’m stronger than my disorder. I’m more intelligent than my disorder. I value myself and my sanity more than my disorder.
If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please seek help. You aren’t alone. Don’t let the demon win.