On Change

Change is inevitable, we know that, and some of us welcome it, and some of us, well, loathe it. I used to be in the latter category, especially while in the throes of my anorexia. Change meant an upset in my schedule, and what would happen if I couldn’t pop a piece of gum in my mouth at exactly 9 am, or what if I was asked to lunch and couldn’t eat my scheduled Special K with water instead of milk? (Eew eew gross gag blech) Change at that time always meant weight gain, and it meant eating different foods other than my safe foods, which were so few that I could count them all on one hand. The only change it seems that I welcomed was a lower number on the scale, or a smaller pant size. There is so much change one can make in this world, and it’s so wasteful that for so long, that is the only changing I strived for: smaller numbers, a dwindling body.

I would think that according to our society’s standards, I have not made many grand, socially acceptable and applauded changes. Instead of busily completing my degree in American Lit with an emphasis in writing, I was busy doing well crap I don’t even know WHAT in treatment. Not once, not twice, but my hell, THREE TIMES – I could have long since added up all my time spent in treatment and much more quickly completed my undergrad. Instead I got a diploma in Almost but not Quite Recovery. (But with Honors, of course. :)

…I chose very recently to take a DEMOTION at work. I have one child, who most of the time is grimy and screechy and mischievous. I heavily rely upon Xanax and anti-depressants to keep me functioning. I am not a good homemaker. I’d rather read than vacuum, rather nap than organize.
BUT.
I’ve managed to stay out of treatment for more than two years, which is a biggie for me. I’ve changed, learned that I’m a big girl and I can save myself – I don’t need to go to a treatment facility to do the saving for me. I smile more. I no longer give a rat’s-A what other people think of me or my friggin’ jean size. I’m spontaneous, I’m funny. I have no “safe foods,” because everything I eat is safe to eat – and I don’t even chew gum anymore, haha.

I have time to think about how much I love my husband and my mini man, not how much I love my ed. I’m a good friend and sister and daughter now. I’m not manipulative, and I don’t lie. People can trust me, because they know that I have changed – and they love who I am, who I am becoming, and what I am discovering about myself.

And that undergrad? It can wait. I have time, now. Ed’s not taking me anywhere.
Because I’m no longer afraid of change, and Ed, you suck, so BOOM, take that.