I’m sorry about the previous post. I understand that eating disorders are not really a fun thing to read about. Let me assure you that they are not really fun to talk about, either.
They are, however, necessary to mention. How many times a day are we bombarded with imagery that we are too this, not enough that; how many times today have you heard someone criticizing their body? How many times have you seen someone refuse food because, “Really, I shouldn’t.”
I teach second graders once a week. We were discussing digestion, and one of the girls said, “And if you don’t eat a lot, you get thin.” She meant this as a positive thing.
This is a second grader, y’all. And I don’t say that as in that she is too young to be worried about her weight- I say that as in we are all too young to worry about our weight. When did I start hating myself? When did I decide I was fat? And how much time have I spent since then focusing my entire being on that hatred?
If you could channel the self-hatred of all the men and women who look in the mirror and hate what they see, we would have the perfect alternative energy source. It would never run out.
I could power my electricity for months on the sheer energy I spend praying that my thighs will get smaller.
I am not going to go into details about what recovery entails. Needless to say, it involves many gross bodily functions that I have screwed up with years of misuse. It involves constant anxiety attacks, because there is no way I need to eat that much, because my body runs perfectly fine on 400 calories.
Recovery from an eating disorder is all about relearning. It is hard to relearn how to eat normally when all the normal people seem to regard their food as some kind of enemy, as more than just food. I would just like some positive examples that I can look to.