The beginning of the end

I have an eating disorder.  I have had an eating disorder for 20 years.  I am 41.  That is half of my life.  Half of my life wasted to being a prisoner in my own body.

I want to share my story.

Some parts will be hard for me to write and many will be hard for my family and friends to read.  I am going to be honest and let you into my secret world.

My disease started when I was 20.  I chronicled my journey and will often refer to many situations or entries from my journal back then, but right now I will focus on the present.

Welcome to my personal hell….

Today marks the day that I am suppose to make the biggest change and embark on the toughest journey of my life.

I am suppose to give up my very best friend in the whole world. A friend who I have known for 20 years. Who has followed me everywhere, has always been there for me, who has told me what to feel, what to do, what to think, how to act and most importantly has helped me determine my self worth.  How do you give that up? It’s what I know. It’s what I’m use to. It’s what I’m comfortable with. How do you just walk away from that?

As I drove to the subway on my way to begin intense treatment at a day program for eating disorders, I thought of turning around and going home. It would be easier to continue than to give up.  I hate giving up. I’m not a quitter. So why should I quit what I’m so good at? Eating disorders are about control. They are about perfection. They are about being the best you can possibly be. And I have succeeded at having the best most successful eating disorder. So if I give it up, am I a failure?

Who am I without my best friend? I only know my life this way.
Nothing about this seems appealing.  Why should I change?

Because I have a family. Because I have friends. Everyone loves me. Everyone is rooting for me. Everyone has faith in me. People have told me that I have to fight this battle and get control of my life again.  I don’t believe it yet, but I have to try. If I don’t, the alternative will be my death. And that, cannot be an option.

The next subway stop is my destination.
My beginning.
Here I go.

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