Sometimes the best advice I get isn’t from my therapist (no offence), my doctor or any specialist I have seen over the past 20 years. It comes from those closest to me.
After reading my blog yesterday JK sent me the following message:
Just read your blog..you are doing great 🙂 and while it is about trying, an eating disorder is unfortunately a disease. SO never think you aren’t “trying” hard enough…no one would ever tell someone with a physical illness to try harder to get better.
She couldn’t be more spot on.
I know that my friends and family would like me to wave a magic wand and have this Eating Disorder vanish. But as JK put it, this is a disease. An illness. I’ve said it in the past, it’s like cancer of the mind.
I will do everything in my power to get to the finish line, to beat this horrible piece of shit disease. I am doing everything in my power to get to the finish line, to beat this horrible piece of shit disease.
Let me take you down memory lane. Part of the reason I do this blog is to help bring awareness to the illness and that is done by sharing my experiences so I can shed light on what an awful life an Eating Disorder creates.
Rob and I were married in 2003. I was in the depths of my Eating Disorder back than. It upsets me to even write that – knowing it has existed for soooooooo long. We went on a cruise for our Honeymoon and traveled across the Caribbean. We were both looking forward to getting away for two weeks and unwinding after all of the planning. I didn’t bring laxatives with me. How liberating.
One thing I should mention, because I get questioned about it is that I NEVER EVER keep laxatives in the house. Never did. If I was going to take them, I would buy them and take them. I never kept inventory. I never wanted them to be found and I never wanted them to be taken by mistake by someone else. I was also very specific with the brand I took. I knew how many I had to take so I would always buy them at Shopper’s Drug Mart – so being on my honeymoon in the Caribbean certainly would give me distance from a drug store.
About 5 days into the trip we were in Costa Rica. Rob was playing basketball and I went for a walk. I found a pharmacy. It wasn’t Shoppers but my skin was crawling. They had laxatives. I bought them. ON. MY. HONEYMOON. I was afraid to take this unknown brand, but not scared enough. I took some (I don’t remember how many, but not the usual amount) and was in the washroom for the next 12 hours. Rob was exhausted and slept soundly through the night. I felt fine in the morning.
Seriously. On. My. Honeymoon.
It upsets me that when I think back to my honeymoon, I remember that.
I have been punishing myself for years. And for what?
I am kind, funny, outgoing, giving, thoughtful, caring, creative, loving, compassionate, friendly, courteous, kind, gracious and loyal. I have so many positive qualities and yet I have allowed this disease to convince me otherwise. I allowed it to convince me that I should be “punishing” my body.
If there was a way for me to inflict the amount of pain on my Eating Disorder that it has inflicted on me, I would be elated to have that sort of revenge.
Wait there is a way. It’s called recovery.