Sometimes I need listeners.

It is a well known fact that complete recovery from a mental illness requires motivation and action which only the sufferer can give. Lots of people struggle; lots of those people won’t get better.
I was diagnosed with OCD not long ago. If I could wake up free of it tomorrow, I wouldn’t hesitate.
Ditto my depression.
Ditto panic attacks.
But my eating disorder is…. Special. It’s special in the sense that it feels like it is my own, unique possession. I have known that voice in my mind for a very long time. I have also had my weight be a symbol of my worth and happiness since as young as 8 years old.
Having an eating disorder makes you feel like you are doing something. It fills your mind, your time, your dreams. You want to be recovered and have a new and wonderful life, but not until you have “succeeded” at sickness.
It’s confusing, painful, and tiring.
Every day I listen to endless self critical thoughts while constantly checking whether or not each body part is getting smaller. I like everything that normal people hate: feeling my bones, not having big boobs, only having a small amount covering my skeleton.
My obsession with controlling my life and my happiness using food and my body is a constant source of emotional pain, but I have some incredible friends in my life.
I know there are a handful of kind, loving people who will always be there for me, no exceptions. I might FEEL alone, but I am cared for. I am lucky to have the best friends in the world to simply listen. They can’t fix me when I’m not sure about recovery, but they are there. Always with kind words, or even something to make me laugh. I hope I give them the love they are always offering to me.

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