Dear Eating Disorder

Hi my name is hope.

Dear Ed,

One of the girls at Center for Change sang "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles for the talent show. She said that it described her relationship with you best, and so last weekend, I played that song over and over again. The part talking about how she felt so strong in your arms, even though you loved her because she was fragile. Then you took even that fragile strength she had. About coming back to you and it never taking long. I can relate so much when I want nothing more but to be in your gravity, even though you keep me down. 

I feel like you and I are the definition of a love-hate relationship. I've written this letter so many times, both in my head and on paper, and I only wrote the negative aspects. I tried to convince myself that there was no reason I ever fell for you in the first place. I never wrote about the longing. You know all the physical shit already. I lost my bone density, especially in my jaw, fucked up my kidneys, lowered my blood pressure, my body temperature, lost my hair... My immune system was weak. My arms and legs were numb all the time due to poor blood circulation. You shot my self esteem and my self worth. The migraines. Increased my isolation and obsessive thoughts, lowered my ability to concentrate, increased my depression, increased my fatigue off the charts, etc, etc, etc. Increased, increased, increased. I was dependent on you.

I turned to you because you were safe when I feared rejection, but you only heightened those fears. I turned to you to feel worthwhile, but as soon as a skinnier girl walked into the room, I might as well have been worthless. Your voice was then in my head: "You didn't restrict enough today. You can't eat anything else for the rest of the night. You have to eat less tomorrow. 200 calories. I don't care if you burn calories or not. You will never be good enough if you keep messing up. Your body will never look as good as hers unless you get your act together. Purge, for God's sake. Binge to numb it all out. If you're fat, you're better off dead." You told me you offered protection and safety, and as long as I didn't eat, I was comforted. It didn't matter if I committed all seven of the deadly sins if I was thin. If I had no friends, because I was thin. If I couldn't play tennis anymore because of the health complications that came with Ed. Thin became my identity. But you gave me expectations I could never reach and always left me feeling "never good enough." For you, let alone anyone else. You took the role of the manipulative boyfriend, and you told me to get rid of my friends to make room for you. And I did because I trusted you. Because I love you.

And I still love you even though you betray me. Even though you punish me and guilt trip me and control me and lie to me. And even though I know that your words are nothing but lies... When you say that skinny will make me invincible and skinny will make me happy and skinny is salvation, I believe it every single time. Those small highs were the most addictive drug in the world. And even though you told me that I should kill myself rather than weigh over 115 lbs, than go through weight restoration, yesterday there I was begging for you back. You are the epitome of I can't live with you and I can't live without you. And you're knocking on my door, especially when I get told I can avoid crying in the dressing room if I was just a few sizes smaller again. And I don't know how to be strong enough to turn away from you, to resist you, to say no over and over again... Because your sex is so divine, kid.

But I want to. I want to remember how wrong I was to ever include you in my life, on my knees begging for you back over and over and over again no matter how many times you told me I was worthless. No matter how many times you told me I should be ashamed of living. But I hate how you make me feel special, regardless of how many girls in the US have eating disorders. Regardless of how many girls have their own versions of you sitting on their laps and regardless of how many other girls you're sleeping with. You. You encouraged me to look at pro anna or pro mia websites until I never wanted to eat again. But you gave me mixed messages. Because as soon as I messed up with that carb or that dessert, you told me to binge. Binge until it was painful to cram more food down my throat. Numb it all out. And then continue to punish myself with the purging. And the point was not to get caught. But if my mom said I was lying about purging, you'd like me to do it in front of her right then. Prove my love for you in the most disturbing way possible. You're the type of person who never knows what you want. Because when I can barely walk a mile because of the fatigue, it isn't you. But when I lose weight, you want all the credit in the world. 

I was eight when you started coming onto me, you pedophile. I swore off treats, then snacks, and eventually told everyone I was gluten-free to avoid excessive calories. You convinced me food's only purpose was to fatten me up. Truth: I had a session with Lauren where she tried to convince me sauces and spreads would not make me gain more weight than other foods. And we tried talking through it rationally, but there's nothing rational about you. You told me that if I was skinny, my mom would accept me. Because my mom never accepted her own body. And then I developed other coping skills that worked just as well as you did. *Sarcasm. And you convinced me boys only wanted me because I weighed under a hundred pounds, and now you're in my head telling me that boys never want the fat girl. But I don't have to believe your lies because you're jealous I left. I changed for the better and it's you who stayed the same. 

Rehab was hell. I was never alone. I could not go to the bathroom without a tech listening with the door cracked. But if you had certain precautions, the door was open, and they had to watch me from the corner of their eye. They had to flush the toilet for me. Supervise me washing my hands, brushing my teeth. I could not drop a pea on the ground without getting supplemented with boost or getting a single pea replaced from the kitchen. Could only have a certain number of boosts a week or you were phase dropped. Two boost refusals and it was the feeding tube. And it hurts to think that was my reality for so long, because none of you will ever understand what it is like eating a bite of your fear foods and having the whole table congratulate you afterwards. Or cheering for the girls who finally lost their feeding tubes by eating a couple snacks. Or watching the runners get tackled. And you ask why I'm still having trouble adjusting.

I used to be so sure that I was better off without you. I used to feel so empowered. I thought that I had coping skills. And even though they didn't give me the highs that you did, they didn't give me the lows that you did either. I know I deserve better than you. But slowly, I'm crawling back...

Love,

Lxxx

P.S. Watch this. It's a dance video about addiction. It gives me chills.