Thank you, ED.

So, I want to preface this post with a little bit about where I am in my recovery so bear with me. I think it will be helpful to the meaning of this post.

I was discharged from intensive outpatient therapy in October 2016. My husband was offered a wonderful job opportunity in California starting in December shortly afterwards. We decided together that I was finally healthy enough to take this journey and he accepted. We moved to California and before we even moved, I had a therapist and a dietician set up and immediately began attending ACA and Refuge Recovery meetings when I got there. We knew this big change could easily set something off, so I decided to go full force to prevent that from happening. By March, though, I began going to meetings less and less. This urge to isolate should have been my first warning that ED was making his way back in. Then, in May my dietician weighed me, and without telling me my weight, let me know that I had gained a little weight compared to my weight that has been almost exactly the same every time I have gone. While she reminded me that this could be for a variety of reasons, I didn't hear it, and ED came roaring back into my head. The restricting and feeling guilty after eating came back with a vengeance. After talking to my dietician, she dug deep and said I was still holding on to a piece of my eating disorder. And I now see that I am, and that I am terrified to let it go. Why? Because I didn't develop an eating disorder for no reason. It did something for me, otherwise I never would have continued starving myself. And I have heard this throughout treatment, that ED did something for me, but now I'm learning the tools to do that myself. And that's what inspired this post. I've written a couple hateful letters to ED. But maybe it's time now that I thank him, so I can start to let him go....

Dear ED,

You suck. There is no doubt about that. But I just can't seem to let you go, and that's because despite all the misery you brought to my life, you did in fact help me in your own weird, twisted, sick way. And I want to take some time to thank you for that.

You gave me a sense of control. I now see that it was a very, very false sense of control. You were very much in control. But your manipulative self seemed to let me think that it was me that was in control. And that felt good. Since I was 12 years old, my world felt like it was always spinning too fast, that there was always things just happening and I had very little control over them. But you gave me the rules, structure, and opportunities to control my life with food. And while I was busy taking care of every one else, with no one taking care of me, you gave me a nice structured list of rules to take care of myself. And that felt safe. So I thank you for that. I have now learned that, yes, the world is completely out of my control. I cannot control what happens or what others say or do or feel, but I can control my reactions to that. I can control what I say and do, and what I eat so that I am healthy and functioning at my best. So I no longer need your false sense of control.

You made it very easy to escape my feelings. Feelings are scary. Feelings suck. And I never had a proper outlet to express them. I always felt that no one listened, no one cared. But when you are starving and empty on the inside, you feel nothing. So you solved that problem for me. You helped my feelings disappear when I couldn't handle feeling them. So thank you for that. However, I'm starting to learn that, yes, feelings suck. But not feeling sad, or angry, or scared, also means not feeling joy. And that sucks. And, also, I am strong enough to handle those feelings. And I have outlets now to do that. I have a husband now who loves me unconditionally and will listen to any crazy ass feelings I have. I also have 2 dogs who are amazing listeners and never judge. And I also learned that I can write these feelings down, whether privately, or on a blog like this, and I'm not going to die or implode from feeling.

You made me feel special. I was the "skinny girl". I loved the comments. "You're so tiny", "What are you? 90 lbs soaking wet?", "I wish I had your willpower not to eat cake at a party". These all made me shine. These gave me an identity. Because I didn't know who the fuck I was. And being the skinniest made me different, special. So thank you for making me special. However, if I want to really make an impact on someone's life, I want to be know as the funny, or maybe kind, or compassionate, or smart one. Or really anything else that doesn't have to do with my body. Cause the first thing you say about a great person in your life or in the past is not "they had a rocking bod". I am more than skinny. I am more than my size. And in order to be funny, kind, smart, and compassionate, I need to be well fed. And functioning at my best. Skinny is not what makes you a good wife, or student, or sister, or employee, or person. And I know that now.

You were there for me, ED, when seemingly no one else was. You gave me things that I felt no one else did. And quite frankly, I'm terrified to let you go for that reason. But I also believe that when I am able to let you go, I can finally live the life I've been waiting to live. Thank you for every thing, but I'm ok now. I don't need you anymore.

Peace and Love,

Lex