ITALIAN?!! ED’s Not Happy. . .

Eating out, I think, will remain hard for a while. And I know I’m not the only one.

Tonight I had Italian.

Woah. Rich, creamy alfredo? Talk about terrifying.

Perhaps I wasn’t ready for the challenge, but I ended up eating far more than my eating disorder was comfortable with and now, for the rest of the night, my anxiety is a constant presence. Did I purge? No, because Ed ( my eating disorder) is no longer always in the driver’s seat anymore.

I get a say in my own life, now.

Still, tonight my Ed is SCREAMING at me– terrible, terrible things that make me want to cry. That’s the kind of person Ed is, everybody. . . He’s like that abusive boyfriend you just can’t quite let go of. Or that manipulative, toxic ex-girlfriend who keeps trying to come back into your life.

You’re too fat, Halle. Disgusting. Look at those thighs, that tummy, that pudge. That extra xxx you had earlier today? It’s going STRAIGHT to your stomach. . . Can’t you feel the fat forming, right now, right this second?

No one will ever love you, he finishes. Except me. I’ll always be there to catch you when you fall.

I wish I could ignore him. Better yet, I wish his voice wasn’t there in my head — but it is, and I can’t change that. What I can do, though, is be curious about the voice in my head. I can be curious about the things my eating disorder says to me.

When you tell me my arms are flabby and repulsive, I ask, do you really mean ‘not good enough’? Not smart enough, maybe?  Not capable enough? Or too much, perhaps? Maybe you’re actually distracting me from something that’s upsetting and scary in my life– I don’t know, Ed. Why do you say these things to me?

And that’s only the beginning, ladies (and gentlemen. Eating disorders don’t discriminate, after all).

There is so much more we can do to fight Ed’s presence in our lives.

But being curious is a start. Rather than believing the hurtful lies he tells us, we can instead choose to observe the unhelpful thought. What is it trying to tell us? More importantly– is this thought fact, or opinion?

Most of the time, the answer will be opinion, even if your first gut reaction is to solemnly shake your head, yes, it’s undoubtedly a fact I am too big. I eat too much. I’m a failure. Unlovable. 

Really, darling? Really?

Question those automatic thoughts.

And when your Ed overwhelms you with anxiety and tells you to restrict, to purge, to exercise to exhaustion– observe that thought. Don’t immediately act on it. Sit with it– even if it’s unimaginably hard. Start with a minute. Set a timer! Then, next time, work your way to 5 minutes. Then 15. Then 30 minutes, an hour. . .

With practice you’ll be able to delay the urge so long you’ll find it’s passed. And while delaying the urge likely will never be easy, it will be so, so WORTH IT, trust me love.

If you try this, this is a HUGE achievement and please, please give yourself a huge pat on the back since I can’t do it for you. Or if you’ve already reached this stage in recovery, give yourself a giant pat on the back as well. That’s incredible.

I hope you’re proud of yourself, wherever you are in recovery. Just making the effort is an incredible act of bravery, whether you mess up or not. Recovery is messy! When you’re going through hell, keep going.

Photo retrieved from Lauren Rushing on flickr.

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