When I first needed help from professionals I had to wait…. It was a looonng wait for somebody utterly insensitive and incompetent. The fact I had waited only fuelled my overall frustration. Since that time I’ve been waiting to be good enough to recover.
What am I waiting for? To stop eating altogether? To purge enough times for it to bad enough? To be a certain weight? To wear a certain item of clothing?
To win at eating disorder is to be 0. Size 0. 0 pounds. 0 calories… To be dead. I forget it’s an illness. Illnesses kill.
I actually made the effort to go with friends to a restaurant this evening. Normally I can’t be bothered, or I’m too stressed to go. I went. They all are loads while I ate a plain, grilled piece of chicken and drank water. It was pretty cool to just enjoy their company, but I did start to wonder if I could feel that way without the security and pleasure that I get from eating significantly less than those around me…
When it isn’t to do with my ED, I’m usually someone who takes opportunities and hates waiting, but with the voices in my mind it’s different.
I’m always going to be waiting because without dying I can’t be good enough.
anadancer 