“So, wait. YOU have an eating disorder?”

One of the hardest parts about my diagnosis is the reluctance of people around me to accept or understand what I am going though, and have gone through for a very long time.

I don’t look like what most people would imagine a person with an eating disorder looks like. I didn’t look like anyone else in the eating disorder treatment center either. I am overweight. How could I have disordered eating? I must just “not take care of myself”. I must be “lazy”. I must just “stuff my face all day” and my personal fave, “lack any willpower”. Ughhh.

Well, I do not lack willpower. I am not lazy and I don’t stuff my face all day. In fact, I spent quite a bit of time restricting my body of necessary calories and nutrients, only to find myself later in a binge cycle. I deprived myself of anything I wanted just so I could try to shrink my size and be acceptable to the world. No donuts, fast food, or “junk.” Just whole foods, grass fed meats, organic whatever and definitely no dairy! Because dairy is the enemy, right? Ughhh. Years and years of this distorted view of food.

Some that I have opened up to about my eating disorder have said, “wow, I had no idea.” I am not surprised by that reaction. That means my eating disorder was working. It was in charge. Secrecy is a large part of most eating disorders. The behaviors we do in silence. Body checking. Poor body image. Sadness. Urges. Actions. The secret we all share. The lies we tell ourselves and others. “I’m fine.” “I’m not hungry. “I already ate.” Meanwhile hiding our shame or binging in secret. It’s a painful and lonely place to be. So it’s no wonder you had no idea. That’s the way my eating disorder (ED) likes it.

My ED didn’t just appear overnight. It was years and years in the making. Slowly creeping into my life and eventually taking over me. Calling me fat and worthless, ED’s voice became so loud and unmistakable that it had taken over my own thoughts. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I often wonder if I ever knew who I was. ED was in charge, and he made sure I felt alone and needed him. And it worked. For many, many years. I needed my ED. I was convinced I was worthless and unlikable and unlovable because of my size, and ED was the only thing to comfort me.

Now, through intensive therapy, I am learning to separate myself from my ED. I am learning to listen to my own voice. To trust myself and to be honest about my feelings. I am learning to shut out ED’s destructive thoughts and pursue happiness like I never have before. I am learning to get out of my BED.