Thank you for not giving up on me when that’s all I want to do.
Thank you for telling me I’m beautiful because that’s not what I see.
Thank you for buying me food I would eat. That’s the best thing you could do.
Thank you for caring.
Thank you for all the I love you’s.
Thank you for standing by me like a soldier at war, because we are.
Thank you for joining my one man army.
Thank you for picking me back up when I’ve fallen down.
Thank you for listening even though you don’t quite understand.
Thank you for talking to me.
Thank you for wiping my tears.
Thank you for not treating me like I’m broken, like a normal human being.
Thank you so much for fighting with me because one day I will be free.
To all of you, family, friends, co-workers, anyone who has shown me love and support over the years. You’re the reason I’m here and fighting. You keep me going and staying positive. I’m so lucky to have the support system that I do. I love you.
I came across a quote my old roomie wrote down for me. “One of the most courageous decisions you’ll ever make is to finally let go of what is hurting your heart and soul.”-Brigitte Nicole. I wish letting go of anything was easy, but it’s not. This quote doesn’t just apply to my disorder either. This quote also slaps me in the face, making me open my eyes to how naive and blinded I have become recently. Change isn’t easy and letting go of something doesn’t just happen overnight. Letting go is something you have to do every day, over and over. I spend everyday with my eating disorder. It helps me cope with stress. It’s my security blanket. My identity. It’s been apart of my life for so long that I don’t remember the Morgan without it. How do you let go of things that you depend on? Things you love? Things that you believe are there to protect you? Why is it so hard to close this chapter? Yes, change is scary Morgan, but also necessary. I keep telling myself that. My inability to accept these changes though, keeps me looking for happiness in the same places I lost it. “Sometimes we have to let go of what’s killing us, even if it’s killing us to let it go.”-unknown
- . My disorder is a mental illness with a physical aspect being the side effect. You can’t see what’s going on inside my head, but you can clearly see what’s going on by my appearance.
- My bulimarexia and obsessive compulsive disorder are one. When grocery shopping, I take the same route every time, avoiding Iles I don’t or won’t go down. I won’t let myself get distracted, it is always the same, even down to where I park my car. In and out, avoiding contact with anyone and knowing exactly where “my” food is.
- I am never not thinking about food, calories, weight. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, it’s in the back of my head. It consumes my thoughts. Every day I wake up and face my body and the fact that I need to eat, two things that feed into my anxiety. It’s exhausting.
- My mood is always unpredictable. I use my eating disorder to cope with all the unwanted feelings. Eventually, I feel nothing, but then I burst. I apologize for my mood swings, it’s not really me.
- I wish I could see what you see when you look at me.
- I’m scared to death of recovery.
- I need you. I need you when I break down because everything I put on makes me look “fat”. I need you to accept that I’m not going to finish my meal sometimes. I need you to not judge me. I need you to not give up on me. I need you to listen. You won’t fully understand, because neither do I, but your support is enough for me.
- Don’t comment on my weight. Telling me I look healthy just triggers negative thoughts and I immediately think “Oh no, I’m fat.” Telling me I’m skinny is just your way of saying, “hey, you’re sick and I see it.”
- I don’t know who I am without my disorder and sometimes I’m scared to let it go.
- I want a family someday, but my disorder won’t let me. When I was 18 my doctor asked me if I would ever have kids and my response was no, because I would gain weight. I’m thirty now. Will I ever get to experience motherhood? I truly hope so.
I am giddy this morning. I got an email back from a counselor who deals with many challenges that I face everyday. Depression, anxiety, panic disorder, grief from death, eating disorders, and more. That’s basically me gift wrapped in a box with a bow on top saying, “here, fix ME please!” I have been to rehabs, spoken to doctors, been pinched, poked, but never have i been given the opportunity to go deeper than just my eating before. Let’s get to the root of why this is happening. I’m being hopeful, this could be a bust like past counselors but my gut is telling me otherwise. Maybe this is my golden ticket to a faster recovery, or even just getting healthy. All these things I struggle with like depression, the fact that I’m scared to drive, my ocd with the number eight, where I park at Walmart, thinking too much and causing a panic attack when it could have been super avoided. Cmon Morgan, the customers in the mall aren’t dragging their feet specifically to piss only you off and cause hyperventilation… They do need to walk faster though. Maybe all of these disabilities play an effect I never put together. My brain is a beautiful disaster but I’ve grown to love it and know it’s ticks and tricks. I am hopeful I get to share some of my brain with this nice lady. 🙂 Very excited to get a new, professional, outsiders perspective of what’s going on inside my noggin.
I imagined that my post about religion would raise some controversy, but to my surprise I got more positive feedback just from being my brutally honest self, than anything. With that being said, I recently received a comment on a completely different post of mine from a blog centered around, yes, God. I was told we do not gain access into the eternal life based on how we look, but based on our standing with God. Thank you, so, I’m going to hell? Where am I going? Why do I care so much about this topic? Maybe I should just delete the comment and move on, but if they’re able to express their beliefs to me, then I’m going to do the exact same. I was instructed with seven steps to invite the Lord and Savior into my life and to prepare for my eternal afterlife. Once again, I’m not trying to offend or discriminate anyone who lives by the Bible. Did this comment knock any sense into me though? Not really, because I’m not self-centered, I’m mentally ill. I don’t want to look a certain way to please society’s standards. I don’t want this life-style. Am I still not going to be accepted into this “afterlife?” I’ve told you that I’m spiritual and my after-life may not look like yours. In fact, it’s apples and oranges. You probably don’t believe in mermaids. I’m not going to try to make you or shame you for not believing either. Nobody can fix me, but me. To my commenter, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve spent my whole life trying to be accepted, why add more doubt and uncertainty to my already difficult road?
With this blog I am obviously not hiding the fact that I have an eating disorder. I’m exposing myself to you all for a reason, but last night was the first time I addressed my disorder to a stranger without feeling ashamed. Now, I don’t go around introducing myself “Hi, I’m Morgan, I have an eating disorder,” I usually tell people I’m an alien, but in this case I responded to the “you’re so thin!” with “yeah, I have an eating disorder.” I felt empowered. In my past and in most cases you hide why you’re so “thin.” You may think, why share that personal information? Well, why not? If you struggle with anything; allergies, deformities, anxiety, a really bad haircut, it’s apart of you. This is apart of me, it doesn’t define me, but it’s reality. I’m still Morgan, the free-spirited, loving, friendly, weird person I will always be. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me, I’m too stubborn for that. If you’re going to point out how I look, I will gladly tell you why. Also, why should we be afraid to tell the truth? Society has made it that way. People assume we want attention. Okay? Let me practice my terrible stand up comedy for you. I think I’m hilarious and so do my cats. I’m not choosing this lifestyle and not making light of it either. After ten years I am finally just okay with who I am and found my voice. Understand that for the past ten years I’ve fought this. I’ve come close to death more than once. Day by day I’m surviving, but aren’t we all?
This may be my first controversial post, but religion is a touchy subject and we’re all very opinionated when it comes to the big guy in the sky. So, with that being said, proceed with caution.. Well, I officially attended my first online EDA meeting last night and have many thoughts and opinions about the whole experience. I was pleased to see that it was very much like any anonymous meeting, even being online. We introduced ourselves, admitted having a disorder, welcomed each other, the whole shabang. We were then given the opportunity to talk and tell our stories one at a time. I guess my idea of a new member meeting was skewed because most of these people seemed to already be miles ahead of me in their recovery. They new what their next step was going to be, while a decade in, I’m still trying to understand what “I’m in recovery” means? I was also hoping for more interaction from the instructor. Guidance from a survivor, I guess? It was clear within the first few minutes that this groups recovery was based solely on God or a (higher power). I did speak out and addressed to the group that I didn’t understand how my recovery involved needing a higher power. Of course I didn’t want to offend anyone and expressed my thoughts with respect, but I just don’t see how admitting my wrong doings to God is going to benefit me personally. Hopefully this post doesn’t offend anyone either and if It does, I truly apologize. I am a spiritual person with my own higher power, I’m just not relying on the idea that there is someone or something out there that is going to aid in my recovery. I wasn’t aware of the type of group I was entering, there was no mentioning of religion. I’m not trying to discriminate against this group for recovering this way, hell, I was raised in the Baptist church. I get it and if it works for them, then that’s all that matters! I, on the other hand, need a group that pushes me to want to get better. Relying on myself and the support of the group around me. Until I can find the group that’s right for me I will continue attending this one, because even though our ideas on how to recover are different, we’re all recovering from the same thing.