Today's Ten: Ten Reasons to Keep Fighting

I've been struggling more than usual with eating disordered thoughts for the last few weeks. As I've said many times, recovery from an eating disorder is only possible when you are actively thinking about and pursuing recovery. It isn't going to just happen to you. You aren't going to wake up one morning with your eating disorder magically cured. If you want to get better you have to fight for it. Here are my personal top 10 reasons for fighting (in no particular order).

1.) Anorexia is a thief.

My life pre-eating disorder is frighteningly different than the life I have now. In the past I was happier. I was healthier. I wasn't so antisocial. I didn't second guess myself. I had more friends. I went out more. I didn't feel the need to withdraw into myself and sit at home all the time. I didn't feel like crap all the time. I wasn't always tired and drained. I could focus on tasks without getting distracted. Before my anorexia, I was a better me. My eating disorder stole everything I had. I'm just now beginning to get it all back.

2.) Anorexia is a destroyer.

Let's get straight to the facts. Eating disorders are serious business. They aren't fad diets or lifestyle choices. They are potentially fatal mental illnesses. According to NEDA:

" Between 0.5–1% of American women suffer from anorexia nervosa. "

" Anorexia nervosa has one of the highest death rates of any mental illness. "

" Between 5-20% of individuals struggling with anorexia nervosa will die. The probabilities of death increases within that range depending on the length of the condition. "

I refuse to be in that unfortunate 5-20%. I will not die from this. We will all die from something someday. But I will not die from this.

3.) I want a future.

Anorexia may own my past, but there is no place for an eating disorder in my future. I'm only 26. God willing, I will have a number of years of life ahead of me. My past may be troubled, but my future doesn't have to be. My future is unspoiled and uncomplicated. It's full of potential, of innocence. It's expansive. It's limitless. I can do anything and be anything. I can start over.

4.) The world is too beautiful. Life is too beautiful.

I am deeply touched and inspired by nature and by the world around me. I'm a stargazer. I'm wishy-washy. I stare at birds and trees and flower petals. Maybe it's because I'm sensitive, maybe it's because I'm a poet, but I see the beauty in every living thing. I'm learning now to see the beauty within myself.

5.) I have dreams.

This is connected to #3 I guess. Not only do I want a future, but I have dreams that I want to come true. I want to teach at a university. I want to get married. I want to have a family. I want to travel, to see the world. I want to make a difference. I want to plant a garden. I want to sit on the front porch somewhere in a little house tucked away in the woods and watch the world unfold around me. I want to sing. I want to write. I have a laundry lists of positive things to accomplish. My eating disorder has no place in any of them. My eating disorder is an interference. It steals the spotlight, the focus. It distracts me from doing the things I want to do and being the person I want to be. I've wasted too many years thinking about calories and fat grams and pounds and the size on the tag inside my jeans. I've wasted too many years feeling not good enough and out of place. No more. It stops now.

6.) I want to have better relationships.

Like many other people with eating disorders, my ability to form lasting relationships is less than desirable. I don't have many friends. I barely speak to the friends I used to have. We've grown apart for a number of reasons, my eating disorder being one of them. I push people away. I don't know how but it always happens. I feel them getting to close and I put my armor on. I'm impenetrable. But I don't want to be anymore. When I meet new people, I want to let them in. Here's to letting my guard down.

7.) I'm tired of being sad.

Depression is nothing new to me. I've experienced it for years, since I was a child. In fact, I can hardly remember not being depressed. There were a few years when I was very very young in which I was truly happy. I remember feeling sad and ashamed of my body at age 7 or 8. I suppose that's when I first started drawing into myself. My father fell ill with cancer when I was 12. That is when the depression really started to take flight. Throughout the years it picked up speed. When I was 19 and he passed away, it skyrocketed. And then the eating disorder came. I understand that all of these things are connected and that, over the years, they have fed off of one another. But I'm tired of being sad. We all deserve to be happy. I know that getting rid of my eating disorder will bring me one step closer to happiness.

8.) I'm ready to relinquish control.

Control is a tricky, tricky word for those with an eating disorder. I will admit firsthand that I am a major control freak. I wasn't like this before my eating disorder. I used to be very easy going and nonchalant. Now, I have to control everything. Every single thing. I can't do anything without planning it out first, and I make very detailed plans. Then I make several back-up plans. I'm meticulous, a perfectionist. I'm a nervous, neurotic mess. I can't give up control in any situation. I micromanage everything. It drives my boyfriend crazy. He's a chef and I refuse to let him cook dinner. Why? He might not do it correctly. I don't like to work as part of a team. I'd rather do it on my own so I'm certain it's done the right way. I never realized my issues with control were problematic until recently. I realize now that it, well, has gotten out of control. I think if I can manage to relax and give up control that it would take a lot of pressure and stress from me. I have to stop worrying about things. I have to learn to be easy going like I used to be. But it stresses me out just thinking about it...

9.) I have people who love me.

I know that I'm not as close to my family I used to be, but I still love them and I know they still love me. My boyfriend loves me. My mother loves me. My grandmother loves me. My nieces love me. My brother loves me. My sister in law loves me. My aunts and uncles love me. Deep down I know this. I have people in my corner even if it doesn't feel like it. I have people who depend on me, who need me. While I know that we can't recover for an eating disorder just for the sake of others, I do know that getting rid of my eating disorder would improve my family relationships. I have to be healthy for myself, but I want to be healthy for those who love me too. I want to stick around to see my nieces grow up. I want to grow old with my boyfriend. Even though an eating disorder is a very personal disease, it impacts all of the people around me. I can't change the damage it's done in the past, but, as I said, I can stop it from doing further damage in the future.

10.) My Dad wouldn't want this for me.

There. I said it. Someone I know said a couple years ago that my Dad would be ashamed of me if he knew I was starving myself. It ripped my heart out. I've never been able to forgive her for that. I don't think my Dad would be ashamed of me. I know that's not true. He would, however, hurt for me. He wouldn't want me to be sick or sad or miserable. He wouldn't want me to torture my body. When he was dying, all he wanted was another shot at life. He saw his body failing and deteriorating. He wanted nothing more than to live and I have life and I'm not even living it. I have a perfectly capable body and I'm destroying it. He wouldn't want me to hate myself or beat myself up or doubt myself or put myself down. He would want me to be happy because he loved me. Because he loves me. He would want me to love myself.


What are your reasons for fighting?

Weight and Wellness

Though weight is a subject constantly on my mind, I've been thinking about it more and more as I've been sick the last few weeks. I've been on such a mix of antibiotics, steroids, pills for dizziness, decongestants, ear drops, and supplements. I hate taking medicine to begin with, and I certainly hate taking this much of it. I believe in being as natural as possible so this entire course of treatment has been difficult for me, especially when I stop to consider the effect all of this medicine could have on my weight. I've read the ins and outs of all the side effects and one pill in particular says that weight gain is very common. How am I supposed to handle that? Most people reporting weight gain have taken the pill as part of long-term therapy while I'm on it only for seven days. Regardless, the last thing I want to do is gain weight. I've been too sick to work out. Starving myself is no longer (and never should be!) an option. So where does that leave me? Do I stop taking the pills in an attempt to maintain my weight or do I concentrate on clearing up the dizziness, the infections, the fluid in my ears? Do I choose weight or wellness?

Of course I know that the answer should be to choose wellness, but it's not so easy. I'd be lying if I said the thought of weight gain didn't terrify me, even to this day. I have gained weight since I began recovering from my eating disorder, but I am finally at a size I've been learning to feel good about. Suddenly I have to consider what I would do if that size changed? I am all about love and acceptance of the way that I am now, but if I were suddenly much larger, would that change? What if I actually became obese? Could I still love myself, or is that love conditional?

The point is that it shouldn't be conditional. It should be unconditional. Whether or not I gain weight from this medicine or for any other reason should have no bearing on my ability to love myself. It should have no bearing on my self-worth. I always talk about how much the outward appearance doesn't matter. But does it? I want to say no. But if the answer is really no, then why am I still so afraid of gaining weight?

I guess even after all of this time spent in recovery, I still have a lot of ground to break. Discovering my weaknesses is the first step toward correcting them. Better yet, it's the first step toward letting go of them.

Maybe I still have a lot more self-discovery to do before I can fully move on to self-acceptance.