Below is an extract from the diary of a recovering anorexic…
“Today I am in battle, and I appear to be losing. The fight against my enemy seems to be a losing one, and I am backing away in retreat. All my bravery is gone, and my tears tell of my shame. what is wrong me? I scream inside but no one responds. Its that voice that ridicules me when I feel my stomach jiggle as I walk. The same voice that reminds me that I can no longer see the bottom of my rib cage. It is still the same voice that begs me to change who I am, but savors the parts I have refused to change. So who is crying these tears? which part of me? the voice or me? and which part is me? Which one is real?
I cant do this. I don’t even know how to love who I am. Where is the line between loving who you are and having the drive to be healthy. When I tell people I struggle with an eating disorder, they smile in disbelief. “Look at her,” I can almost hear them think, “She does not have the body of someone who is anorexic.” But they can’t hear the voice I still carry around. The one that tells me my pants are too tight, and that jacket doesn’t fit the way it used to.
And I have good days and bad ones. One day I actually thought I might wear a bikini this year. Something I have never done. And today I believe I never will.
What started this melt down of emotions, and the retreat of a once winning battle. I did laundry today, and the pants that were always a little loose, I struggled to button. “That’s normal,” some would say. But my voice tells me, even though I think I was winning, that I am losing.
My arms are flabby now. Your stomach has rolls. The cellulite on your legs goes to your knees. Did you know that your hips are wider than your shoulders. Your cheeks are the focus of your face, and when you turn around ppl can see the rolls on your back. Your ugly. Your fat. You have no control.
My God. My Jesus. You died for this. You say I am worth it, and the battle is already won, but how, Lord, do I claim my victory. Would it be better if you made me lose about ten pounds. Or if the cellulite disappeared.
I will learn to love this. No matter how much I weigh. I will continue to eat healthy, and exercise, and I will learn to love this. This body. This stomach. These hips.
I will not retreat, this battle already has a victor. I cannot retreat. But I still cry”.
By “Struggling Victor” Feb ’08