As I’ve been plodding on and progressing with my eating disorder recovery, I’ve noticed a longing… a longing for my ‘old’ body, for the emaciated, child-like body I got so use to… the body I got comfortable with and the body I called my home for so so long.
Since restoring weight, I’ve felt lost and confused and uncomfortable and scared and disgusted and hopeless and useless. But since restoring weight, I’ve felt alive and I’ve felt love, I’ve felt laughter and joy, I’ve felt happiness and I’ve felt confidence, I’ve felt like myself and I’ve felt hope.
Because, importantly, since the age of 11 I’ve done everything I can to suppress my weight. To stay the same size as an 8 year old (or, to disappear completely). Since the age of 11, I’ve let my eating disorder do everything within its control to create a home in a body that I didn’t belong to. In a body the size of a child. In a body that my eating disorder has dictated is ‘safe‘.
In reality, is it normal to long for a child-like body at the age of 22?? Rationally, is it safe? (definitely not btw)… it isn’t normal to ‘want‘ a body that resembles something of a small child, it isn’t rational to think a body that size is safe or protective.
My body will be safe, content and completely mine when it is no longer controlled by my eating disorder; physically and mentally. My body will be safe when it doesn’t need to rely on calcium supplements to help protect my bones. My body will be safe when it knows it is getting constant food when it needs, and wants it. My body will be safe when it is at its own ‘set point’ (whatever that may be).
My body will be safe when I accept that it is totally incomprehensible to call the body controlled by anorexia ‘my home‘.
My body will be my home when I realise that my body and mind free from anorexia is safe.
My body will be safe when I accept it as my home, without the influence of anorexia. When I accept it in all its wiggly glory *wiggle wiggle*.
I don’t want to be comfortable living in the body meant for me as a child. I don’t want to force my body to be anything it is not. I wouldn’t ask that of anyone else, so why should I make myself the exception?
Anorexia is not keeping me safe. Anorexia does not make me content. Anorexia doesn’t want me to feel comfortable. Anorexia has no function for me anymore.
The body I need to live a full, present, complete life is the body I want to call home.
I want to go back home.
Love E x