Eating disorder, OCD, anxiety, panic disorder, depression. For YEARS I have let these voices, fears, and nervousness plan my day, what I eat, how much I sleep, my relationships, my health, my happiness.
I’ve decided to challenge myself this year and set a few realistic goals to gain back control of my life.
- Get a new hobby. Something to break my everyday routine and open my mind to new opportunities.
- Stop parking in the SAME parking spot at Walmart. If I lose my car for a second, I’m gonna be okay..
- Buy groceries without checking the calories on the back.
- Learn to cook.
- Eat what I cook.
- Throw away my “skinny enough” jeans.
- Go for walks, hikes, swims. Embrace life outside of my insecurities.
- Be grateful for the little and big things I have in my life.
- Stop wasting precious time.
- Start appreciating the life I was given.
Some of these may sound ridiculous, but they’re MY ridiculous resolutions and I can’t wait to see what this year is going to bring and what I can accomplish!
Happy New Year’s to you friends!!
I want to apologise for how I’ve treated you.
I’m sorry for thinking you’re not good enough.
I’m sorry for starving you.
I’m sorry I let my mind play tricks.
I’m sorry for causing you physical pain.
I’m sorry I don’t see the beauty other’s see. I’m told you’re beautiful.
I’m sorry for trying to make you something you’re not meant to be.
I’m sorry for constantly critiquing you.
I’m sorry for comparing you.
I’m sorry for not realizing all you’ve done for me over the years because I was too busy hating how you looked.
I’m sorry for not taking care of you, when you have done nothing but take care of me.
I also want to thank you.
Thank you for keeping me with you when I tried leaving.
Thank you for not stopping when you had nothing to keep going.
Thank you for embracing our tattoos. I will get more.
Thank you for being my souls home.
Thank you for being strong for the both of us.
Thank you for taking those two shallow breaths a minute.
Thank you for recovering when I push you past your limits.
Most of all, thank you for loving me when It’s still hard to love you.
I pinky promise to make it up to you someday. I never break a pinky promise.
Pinkys are small, but the secrets and promises they keep are huge.
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 went back and forth in my head last night on whether or not I was ready to share this picture, but thought it would be wise to visually show you first how much this disease really affected me. During this time I was extremely scared for my life and took the picture on the left and sent it to my younger brother reaching out for advice. I was living on ensures (the chocolate protein drink) that my mom would stock in my fridge. I was weak, tired, nothing fit me anymore. I knew people were staring at me and was afraid to leave my apartment. I am 5’10 and weighed 107 pounds in that picture. My Dr. told me I shouldn’t even be getting out of bed, as my body was shutting down and had nothing as far as energy to even be walking. The picture on the right is about 3 months later after a week in rehab, which I will talk about in another post, weighing just 111 pounds, still very thin, but progress none the less. I still worry about the number that shows up on the scale, but I can say, I know I can’t let the number 107 show its face again.