The Glamorous Life Of Anorexia
Trigger warning: Eating disorders
If anyone tells you that having an eating disorder is a glamorous life, they either do not have any experience with eating disorders or they are lying to you.
There is nothing glamorous about feeling so dizzy from lack of food that you’re certain you will collapse. There is no glamor in heart palpitations. There is no glamor in kneeling over the toilet, sink, or shower floor and forcing your fingers so far down your throat, bringing up everything you’ve only just consumed. There is no glamor in weighing yourself numerous times in a day or counting every calorie that even crosses your path. The life of eating disorders is not a life one should aim for. This is not a life of glamor. This is not a life.
My eating disorder has been one of immense pain – physically and mentally. There have been many tears and taking care of my body has been an incredibly difficult task. My eating disorder has caused many issues in my health but not rectified any problem. My self-esteem was not helped in any way, only worsened. My self-hatred did not improve, my anxiety did not improve, my depression did not improve. Anorexia’s voice got louder. My ability to be a ‘good’ anorexic – that got better. That improved. But it only improved at the risk of my health, and my life; and it cost me a great deal.
Anorexia has cost me a lot of brain space. Anorexia has consumed extensive amounts of my energy and used up a lot of my time to think about all the foods she dared me not to ever eat. Anorexia has forced me to be a liar – “I already ate.” “No thanks, I’m full.” Anorexia has made me to be a person I didn’t hope to be, and I have listened to anorexia. Anorexia has controlled a lot of my life for many, many years. Anorexia has been my life for many, many years, and I’m unsure of my identity without her. Anorexia has caused my people to worry for me, and for that I hate her. Anorexia has made me doubt my own strength, and for that I hate her even more.
Anorexia has provided me with a false sense of security. Anorexia has gripped me so tight, I worried she would win. I still worry that she will win.
Anorexia has been my fake friend, one I finally opened my eyes to see her for what she truly is. I will never tell anyone that EDs are the good life, and I will never say recovering is an easy life. Recovery is hell. A lot of times, recovery feels more difficult than just staying trapped in anorexia. But where does that leave me?
It means my dreams can only stay dreams and I take my chances away from living my one life the way I want to. It means my life is bound to be shorter because a human body is designed to consume food. It means I will not be able to be there with my niece as much as I would want to, and I would miss seeing some of her milestones. I would not be able to do my job to the standard I set for myself, and I would not be able to enjoy my life. Because life with anorexia, or with any eating disorder, is a life where you fight to survive, but you do not live. And that is not a life I want. We are survivors, but I do not want to just survive. I want to be a fighter. So we fight.