I have an eating disorder
Hello. My name is Kayla and it’s been
two months seven days since I’ve binged.
I can barely type the words; eating disorder. I like to hide under “ED” instead. It’s easier that way. No longer something that is bad, but just two letters; E D. I like to pretend it’s in my past. I used to struggle with it. Past Kayla had an eating disorder. Present Kayla, Future Kayla … she doesn’t. Present Kayla is in complete control. Present Kayla is healthy and has the perfect lifestyle. Present Kayla doesn’t have to worry about starving herself or eating everything in the house. Present Kayla can buy a pack of Oreos and share it successfully.
That’s what Present Kayla likes to think anyway.
The truth is …
Present Kayla, ME, I need to face reality. I am not in control, but I’m trying. I’m not healthy, but I’m working on it. My lifestyle is nowhere near perfect, but I’m focusing on making healthier decisions, one by one. I know I shouldn’t starve myself and I’m trying my hardest not to restrict myself too much. I know I shouldn’t binge. I wish intuitive eating was easy. I’m working on being mindful of what I eat. But sometimes, my mind tricks me into thinking I’m hungry, not thirsty or bored or depressed or anything other than hungry. I can’t buy a pack of Oreos without eating the majority of it (sorry Zach) … but this time I only ate two rows instead of the whole pack. Progress, right?
A few months ago, I found myself questioning ever having an eating disorder. Maybe I was just like any other teen all those years ago. Every teenager has body issues, so why not me? Why am I just “looking for attention”? Maybe now, my out of control eating, maybe it was normal too. Maybe I just sucked at losing weight or dieting or exercising.
I had this idea that since I was never in treatment, it didn’t happen. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t as serious or dangerous or unhealthy as every other person out there that did go through treatment. I was erasing my own eating disorder, thinking it wasn’t “serious” enough or “bad” enough.
How messed up is that?
Just because I was good at hiding my past behaviors, my current behaviors, I felt as if my own problems weren’t worth the time addressing.
My story wasn’t worth sharing.
But quite frankly, that’s BS.
Somewhere out there, there are teenage boys and girls feeling the same way.
Somewhere out there, there’s a mom or uncle or older sister or younger brother feeling invalid or hiding it from their family so so well.
Somewhere out there, there is someone who doesn’t feel like it’s worth the time to deal with their problems.
There is someone that feels like other people deserve getting help or talking to someone.
Because of that, I hope they find this post. I hope they can see that no matter where in their lives they are … they are worth it. YOU are worth it.
I’m sorry this is a short post, but it needed to be said and I’m working on it. I’m battling it. I am going to beat this.