It’s not me it’s my eating disorder

I don’t really know what is authentically me I might have an idea but not the full knowledge of what my true character is like. Having an eating disorders well in my case two because… Why not? I have a very warped sense of self and that resulted in my existence being tortured.

I am a very kind, loving person I do have bad traits like being stubborn and being impatient but I can’t say I am a bad person but my EDs make me into something.. yes something not someone… that I can’t recognize. I get so snappy, so irritable and so angry. I hate it when I am preparing something to eat and my mum comes into the kitchen and looks at me from the corner of her eye she pretends as if she is wiping countertops but she’ll be.. inspecting me, checking if I have enough on my plate and that aggravates so much I develop this persona and I hate myself when I’m being stand offish to her but I can’t control my reaction, it happens every single time.

My mum and I get along so well but when it comes to my EDs she becomes my “enemy” in the sense that I feel she’s getting in the way of my mission to get those protruding hip bones, collar bones and insane thigh gap, in a way I feel she is getting in the way of me finally being happy because to me Skinny = happiness. I feel like once I get to that scarily skeletal frame all the good things will just automatically follow but I am never satisfied no matter how little I weigh, Is there a perfect anorexic? Yes and she’s dead but I it never fully registers with me because I always say well my situation is different but it’s not.

“Where is this sweet girl? this was my daughter my precious baby who ate” my mum always affectionately says this to me staring at a picture of me that hangs above the fire place, I looked happy in that picture but looks can be deceiving, I had already started taking a weight loss supplement and restricting severely when that picture was taken – I was 10 years old

My relationship with my family would have been different if it weren’t for my EDs don’t get me wrong I am very close with them (except my dad ) but I hate how I treat them unfairly, they are so tolerant of my mood swings and break downs they forgive me for treating them like crap time and time again and I always tell them that the reasons why I behave that way have nothing to do with them that it’s all me .. because 90% of the time it is me.

I have different feelings about my body throughout the day, I may wake up feeling skinny and be in a good mood chatting to everyone but if I all of a sudden feel fat or if this wave of hopelessness hits me like a tidal wave I go back to being that dead looking person again and I can’t give an explanation for it where would I even start.

I get so frustrated because the real me is hiding beneath these EDs, the real me is buried and it’s the mental illnesses hovering around and running the show. It’s not like I had a choice did I, at first this was about having control being in charge of my own body, being comfortable in it then things got out of hand and here I am 12 years later on this bed that I made for myself at the bottom of the blackest hole. This was never about food this was about controlling that part of my life that I COULD control.

I feel the need to apologise endlessly to my family – I am sorry for being difficult to live with, sorry for all the medical bills, sorry for the emotional trauma, sorry for shouting at you for making me eat you meant well.. you mean well, sorry I could not have been a better daughter and sister, I am terribly sorry. To my cousins I am sorry for being lame for never returning your phone calls for us to hang because I was recovering from binge and purge sessions . I am truly sorry because it’s not me… I swear… it’s my eating disorder, it’s this mindset that I am stuck in.

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4 thoughts on “It’s not me it’s my eating disorder

  1. I don’t think I’ve read anywhere about you seeing a therapist? It seems like you recognize your disorder, and you know it can kill you …. but maybe you just need someone to help and give you the tools to cope with your disorder.

  2. I saw a therapist for a long long time for my depression and suicide attempts. As cliche as they are, they really do help you see and understand things about yourself that you would never think of.

  3. Reading this feels exactly like I am looking into my own life! The only difference for me is that my dad and brother work hard to make me feel comfortable and my mom and sister just judge everything I do as ammunition to start fights with me later to bring me down when I’m having a “good” day.

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