Watched stand up for cancer yesterday and have to say I felt utterly disgusted with myself. Cancer is thrust upon People causing pain and suffering not only to the individual but to the family and friends who have to watch on unable to help or relieve the pain and suffering of their loved ones. These people do not choose to be ill and will accept any and all treatment they are offered grasping it with open arms in the hope of recovery. Here in lies the reason for my disgust at myself. Unlike these people I chose to have an eating disorder! (I am told that this is not the case and it is an illness, I find this hard to believe as after all I starved myself) This illness also affects those close to you in the same way as any other illness would, invoking feelings of helplessness the main difference is that I don't want to accept the treatment and ultimately therefore don't want to get better!!
It's all to do with what better means, to 'normal' people better is being healthy, able to cope and enjoy life, to me and others with an eating disorder better means failure, greed, laziness and being too big!
Welcome to the twisted world of the eating disorder brain!
While I have a million reasons to get better (more quality time with Ben, friends and family, ability to be spontaneous, finding out new likes and interests to name but a few) something stronger wants to keep me ill. The reasons to recover don't appear to be enough and I find myself wishing to stay ill despite being in hospital to undergo recovery. It's very hard to admit to those you love that although I'm here and getting help and putting on weight I don't feel like I'm ready to be well. I imagine it's all to do with the dreaded unknown again, what if I get well and I don't have people to help me anymore, what if I don't like the 'real' me, what if I find I don't actually have any interests, what if people don't like me. These thoughts fill most of my waking day and along with the screaming of the eating disorder continue to convince me that recovery is a bad idea becoming all consuming and exhausting. Once stuck in the mind set its incredibly hard to change your thinking.
I imagine it is impossible for people to understand why you would want to stay ill after all I have no idea myself. Truth is at this moment in time I have no clue as to what the eating disorder gives me that keeps me in its grasps. I can say for certain that I have come to realise that I am still well and truly in its filthy clutches. While I want to be well I am too fearful as to what that means and right now all I can see is getting bigger and bigger. In rational moments I know that eating disorders are not really about weight or food or even your size it's just the manifestation of what ever it is that your eating disorder is masking.
I hope that each weigh day my weight will have dropped and that I will once again see the concave stomach that I have grown so accustomed to because this means safety and let's face it after 12 years this is all I know.
I am just holding on to the hope that as time goes on and as my weight increases that my ability to challenge my thoughts and feeling may become possible and I will begin to embrace the thought of getting well. Along with the help of the psychologist who I am seeing each week I hope to piece together the jigsaw and discover what it is that not only caused this problem but how I then learn from this knowledge and move on and leave this crap behind