“You look great!” Immediately there is a rush of adrenaline and greedy satisfaction. But that only lasts a few minutes. This encounter boosts the eating disorder’s slimy confidence and he wraps his grips tighter around your waist. You can feel the rib cage heave up and down, the bones pierce through making their presence known. A proud growl roars and it brings a shutter of victory yet defeat. The mouth is dry, and the tongue is parched, desperate for water yet refusing to drink. You have starved yourself for months, and now it’s paying off. You exercise relentlessly to the point of exhaustion, dehydration, and almost unconsciousness. When you do eat you feel the urge to purge it out of your body.
Food is the enemy, and this is the battlefield. Land mines surround you through enticing edible temptations. The skilled can walk blindly through the maze of ticking bombs, not giving into any sort of sustenance. I became the skilled. I was proficient. I may have feared the enemy because it would distort my body and play with my emotions, but I did not show any intimidation. However, what I did not realize was that I had been injured badly in this battle. I was mortally wounded, but I walked with elegance and pride. I was maimed, but with stubborn mentality, I did not give up my position. I was dying, but at least I looked great.
This battle waged in my mind, but it was lived out in daylight. I dodged land mines for nearly thirteen years. I was left alone and almost bled out on the field, until I saw a search light. Hope.
This is the beginning to my story of hope in the midst of an eating disorder. Join me in this discovery of life in recovery by subscribing.