Color Me a Coward

Control: something I do not have.

People will tell you a lot of things about eating disorders (the same things over and over), but you will never know the raw truth until see it first hand. I’ve seen eating disorders both glamorized and hated. I never formed any real opinion on them until it was too late to form an accurate one. Some people think that the disorder is something you can get rid of easily, but here’s the catch:

From the perspective of someone who is anorexic, there is no winning side- no right answer- and I’ll tell you why. If you eat food, you’re weak because you gave in. In that moment, you have lost control. In that moment, your feelings have won. But if you starve yourself, part  of you (be it large or be it tiny) knows that you are doing the wrong thing. You cannot tell anyone because they will not understand. That’s when you’re weak for doing something so disgusting to yourself.

Disgusting. It’s interesting how much I hate that word, yet it is the one that is always there. My mind whispers it every day. Disgusting. When I eat crackers- disgusting. When I eat chicken- disgusting. You’re disgusting me, Kennedy. The word echos. I hear it in the halls as though everyone is watching me. She’s disgusting, they must think. Tell me, would you rather be hated by yourself or by everyone else? Which is more dangerous?

It took me three years to even acknowledge that I had an eating disorder. Sometimes it’s easy to hide, sometimes it’s not. The thing is, this is not something I would advertise to anyone. When I developed this disgusting thing, it was between me, myself, and I. Almost anyone you asked would tell you that I ate like a normal person. You know why? Because I didn’t lose weight until after two years. So many people think that they’ll just stop eating and lose weight but that’s not the way it works. For a while, I actually gained weight because my body held onto every last food particle.

Another thing they don’t tell you is that there are other factors that have nothing to do with the size of your belly. For me, it was the feeling of being empty. My whole stomach felt as though it was closing in. My body was as empty as my heart, as empty as my wallet, as empty as a doughnut shop on a Saturday night. The pit inside of me growled and I didn’t listen because I was in control. I liked that. Control was more delicious than cheesecake. Satisfaction is the only way to describe it.

Disgusting: I refuse to let this word define me.

Lastly, I was never told that this would be inescapable. I made a commitment more than a semester ago to recover from my eating disorder. For a few months, I felt as though I had succeeded in becoming a normal eater again. I was skinnier AND I could eat food. Then I started gaining weight. Rapidly. I gained seven pounds. You can’t tell someone you have an eating disorder when you never did get skinny.

I’m about to say something demented, are you ready? Part of me wishes that I had never began this recovery process. Even though I feel healthy, I would take it back. Everyone says that I look healthy. But I have lost control. I have not won. I have given in. Every day, I lose. Every meal, I lose. I cannot stop it.

This is the part of the game where I am a monster for playing it. I am a monster for showing you the truth. And maybe I am a monster. But isn’t it easier to play pretend? Isn’t that what we’re all doing? I wish I could be strong. I wish I could make you happy. But this is the game where no one wins. I’m sorry.

Please, do not play this game. I assure you that nobody will tell you the rules. I can guarantee that you will lose. Unlike other games, this one will not end without crushing you. It will take you months or years to stop playing this game that you never wanted to play. Please, do not become one like me.

-Kennedy

“Do I want to die from the inside out or the outside in?”- Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls