The Holiday Season Doesn’t Equate to Just One Feeling
We’re taught and encouraged to feel and honor a single emotion when the holiday season is upon us.
Topic: eating disorder
We’re taught and encouraged to feel and honor a single emotion when the holiday season is upon us.
I was right, in a way, about the day the elevator opened: I could never go back again.
My stomach is full, which feels wrong, but I know it’s not.
I knew then that things would never be the same from that point forward: the anorexia as resistance, the depression as loss of control, the fleeing to another country as delusion, the dying and then not dying and then dying and then not dying.
Depression is not a bad part of my personality or a flaw in my character.
Amidst all the things I couldn’t control, there before me was something I could: my weight.
My eating disorder looks quiet to the outside world.
What I have done throughout my recovery is not only find a way for me to have a better relationship with food—although that is a major part of the process—but to also see the roots beneath the tree of my disorder, helping me to unveil the bigger picture.
I was always just a little too much, even when there wasn’t much there for me to even be.
The relationship with my body is a complicated one—with ups and downs, celebrations, and resentment, but as of late, a lot of acceptance and contentment too.
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