I really miss people who get it...
Something I dearly valued about full time treatment was sitting in the trenches with my fellow ED comrades. Support groups, informal chats, group meals, processing food, the food wins and the food challenges, were all undergone with others who understood.
While I am deeply grateful for the mental health support I receive from professionals, it’s not quite the same. They are supporting me but it’s not coming from a place of empathy. My therapists might have a lot of experience helping people through the battle but they don’t have an ED.
Everything is a fight in some respect, with the number of bullet rounds varying day to day. I know I write a blog, but I can’t really talk about the daily battles with anyone, especially not when it's an epic explosion. I am a closed book and pretty protective of my vulnerable self, to use IFS language, my ‘exile’ parts. This means that while I am willing to disclose that I go to therapy, have struggled with my mental health, and am a strong advocate for those who need help, I won’t tell people if I am having difficulty eating a meal or snack.
My anorexia can feel all consuming. Back at uni, surrounded by my triggers, the walls have closed in quite tightly. I often cry with exhaustion from the mental strain it takes to stand up and fight Kevin. Two weeks ago, I was starving at around 9:30ish pm. I picked a packet of crisps up and down around 5 times and couldn’t bring myself to eat them. I eventually broke down and just decided to go to bed because I couldn’t cope anymore. In the end I couldn’t sleep because I was so hungry. After 30 minutes of lying in bed with a rumbling stomach, I plucked up the courage and ate the crisps.
I wish this wasn’t a weekly or even daily occurrence. At home I have regularly picked up and down items of food and packets debating whether I can cope with eating them.
It’s all the time.
Every meal.
It sounds bleak but over the last few years I have got good at coping and muddle my way through most days tear free.
What’s hard is that the only people who really can get it are those with, recovering, or recovered from an ED. So that’s why I’m guarded, because how can I tell a friend that I’m actually really stressed right now because since 8am I have been trying to figure out what I should have for dinner. At the moment my head is really full with many, many bits and bobs. I crave just sitting in a circle and feeling like I can get it all out and knowing that those ‘exiles’ will be held and understood.
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