I’ve just stepped in the door and sat myself on the couch after a long drive home, from a lovely weekend back down South with my family…
And during my journey, every hour I heard this in the news on the radio:
That UK Doctors are going to receive funding to help serve those of us with an ‘eating disorder’, better.
And it got me thinking about a few things…
About the times I visited the Doctor during my troubled eating days (because my Mum made me).
And those days, quite frankly, sucked.
I hated every time I visited my Doctor about this topic – because NONE of it was helpful.
Ok, my mindset may have been cloudy, hurting and stubborn at the time – but truly, the advice I was given, sucked.
First I got told to ‘try eating some more’.
‘Oh yeah, good one Doc. Just eat some more when that’s the last thing I wanna do right now.’
Then I got ‘educated’ on what a healthy meal looks like.
‘Like I don’t already know, Doc. I’m kinda obsessed with food right now and know that I should be eating, but I’m scared to.’
Then I got told to ‘gain some weight’.
Oh and then, that I should see a counsellor.
‘Ok, mayyyybe a bit better, but I still don’t wanna.’
Anyway, here’s my point – that if the Doctor had maybe said something different, it might have struck a chord with me…
Telling me things like:
How not eating, binging, and purging would affect my body.
How it would leave me feeling lifeless.
How it would damage my relationships with my family and friends.
How it would affect my metabolism.
How it would make my knees hurt so much that as each day went by it grew more and more painful to walk and I’d be in tears that I couldn’t go burn 1,000 calories on the treadmill (no joke).
How it would mean missing out on socialising – because food brings people together and creates memories to cherish.
How I’d grow to fear my most favourite holiday of the year, Christmas. Because I’d be calculating every calorie in my head, and planning exactly WHAT I was going to eat, and how I was going to get rid of it.
How it would drive me further and further away from loving myself – the most important journey for us to never stop experiencing.
How I’d waste money on clothes so tiny that when I do finally get out of the dark place, wouldn’t fit me anymore.
How it would stab to death my lust for life.
How I’d lose my desire to be in a romantic relationship.
That it would make me freezing cold, even in the Summer, and want to take a hot water bottle with me everywhere I go.
That I’d be frightened to even eat a raisin or two.
That I’d be tired. Oh so tired. But unable to get solid nights sleep without waking up several times.
That exercise wouldn’t be enjoyable, and that I’d use it as a punishment.
And that I was enough, beautiful, strong and capable just as.I.am.
The list goes on, and on, and on, and on.
But maybe, just maybe if I was made aware of the reality of what I was doing – I may have wrapped my head around it quicker. (And I know it’s not the Doctors fault! Unless you’ve experienced one, it’s so tough to know what guidance to give).
Now I was lucky, I made the decision to STOP and heal after a year and a half of putting myself through that hell.
But for others, this lasts for years more… and I want you to know that even if the advice you’re being given right now seems ridiculous and you want to fight it – you’re enough, and,
You DO NOT deserve to put yourself through any of the s*#t experiences a troubled relationship with food, hands you.
You really don’t.
If I could say something to the past me who was scared to death of food, I would tell her that she is enough, just as she is in every present moment. And I’m telling you the same thing.
Recovery from an eating disorder is possible.
Choosing recovery each and every day will enable you to discover your true self and to reclaim your life. You should not have to suffer in silence – in fact DON’T, my guidance from others was the best, most powerful thing, and has given me the confidence to embrace any experience in life.
It is never too late to choose recovery.
You’re STRONG my sunshine. 💥 💜