How much of you did ED take away?
One of the worst parts of mental illness is that you begin to identify with the disorder more than anything else. You end up thinking about your own identity in terms of what the disease allows, and don’t dare to expand the realm of possibility. At least, that’s what happened to me. My self identity was reduced to a sequence of numbers: the macros on MyFitnessPal, the calories burned on a treadmill, the times on the clock when I militantly allowed myself to eat, the number of ounces of chicken breast and Brussels sprouts I would allot myself. Numbers on my mind that consumed me. I’d walk down the street, convinced that these numbers were branded on my forehead. I wasn’t a person, I was a body, a body made of and running on numbers. Day in and day out.
With food and my body continually habituating my mind, the things I had previously cared about fell by the wayside. I dragged my way through all my days. Things that used to fill me with joy: my classes, my internship, my sorority, acting, seeing friends, going to parties, watching movies, listening to music, the list goes on an on. I went through the motions, distracted. Everything suddenly became too exhausting to take on, and I reduced my presence to only what was absolutely necessary: class, work, and mandatory events. I remember sitting out of exercises in acting class because I was too weak for the eclectic physical work. I remember shivering and staring at the clock during my sorority’s bid day when I should have screaming with joy about getting new sisters. I sat inside my house studying while my friends were out at Big Ten football games because I was too tired to make it to the student section.
But it wasn’t just my actions that were diminished. The way I interacted with others changed too. I couldn’t date, I couldn’t be present in conversations. I couldn’t think creatively and help others solve problems. I couldn’t serve the world the way God intended-I was too wrapped up in my own rules, my own ‘struggles’, my own anxiety, to think about anyone but myself.
Well fuck that.
ED told me that it made me special. It made me beautiful. It made others like me and care. But that’s not true. The things that truly made me beautiful, the inner qualities that God gave me (my sociability, kindness, compassion, energy & spirit), were severely diminished. My ED did not make me special- it did not add anything of value to my identity. I wasn’t living my best life. I wasn’t 100% Sarah. I was a shell of Sarah. I don’t want to live my life as a fraction of a being- does anyone?
What is life if it’s not lived to 100% of it’s potential?
Don’t be 33% you. You are worth SO much more.
But it wasn’t just my actions that were diminished. The way I interacted with others changed too. I couldn’t date, I couldn’t be present in conversations. I couldn’t think creatively and help others solve problems. I couldn’t serve the world the way God intended-I was too wrapped up in my own rules, my own ‘struggles’, my own anxiety, to think about anyone but myself.
Well fuck that.
ED told me that it made me special. It made me beautiful. It made others like me and care. But that’s not true. The things that truly made me beautiful, the inner qualities that God gave me (my sociability, kindness, compassion, energy & spirit), were severely diminished. My ED did not make me special- it did not add anything of value to my identity. I wasn’t living my best life. I wasn’t 100% Sarah. I was a shell of Sarah. I don’t want to live my life as a fraction of a being- does anyone?
What is life if it’s not lived to 100% of it’s potential?
Don’t be 33% you. You are worth SO much more.