Time to Move On

Everyone, I have good news. Startling news. News that I wasn’t sure would ever come out of me; news that I hoped I would feel and know, but have as of yet to ever feel this way. And…even though this broad is good with words, I’m not sure I can adequately explain just what I’m feeling. So be patient with me while I mull around, trying to figure this out.

I have had anorexia for just about ten years. I would say a good 5 ½ of those years were spent with me messing around, and literally having ZERO desire to recover, to restore my weight. I went to therapy and to dietary and inpatient then again and again and again, had several feeding tubes, blah blah blah yakkity schmakkity, because I had to, but I secretly knew I’d never gain weight; never really follow through with my treatment team’s recommendations, because there was nothing more that I valued more than being skinny. You catch that world – VALUE? Values are important. They are the cat’s meow, they are The Shit. Values shape our lives and our personalities and the courses we take in life and influence every decision we make. I literally VALUED my pant size over my family. I VALUED losing weight over keeping my job. I VALUED being emaciated over staying alive. I had been raised to have good, honest, solid values, yet I threw those out like worthless trash in my effort to be thin, to slowly die. I soiled my integrity. People lost their trust in me, because I lied about food – how much I ate, no I didn’t throw it away or hide it, I promise.

It wasn’t until Cade was born that I really began to figure out that anorexia is a serious blow job, and that it was time to get over this selfish, meaningless, USELESS and NEEDLESS disease. And it wasn’t easy. I mean, obviously. But I realized, once I had my perfect sweet angel man in my arms, that there was more to life than how far my collarbones jutted out, and the number on the scale. Cade gave me perspective; he gave me a new set of values. That being a mother - a present mother who is healthy and there unequivocally for her children, and teaching them to be honest and good people, was something that I valued. Finally FINALLY I had something I cared about more than being thin.

So I finally started to do the real work, the nitty-gritty stuff that gets under your fingernails and leaves a bad taste in your mouth. And it sucked a lot of the time. And it hurt(s) like hell. I have been underweight since November of 2005. That is a long time to acclimate to being where I am, and the idea of getting to a normal weight is terrifying for me. And yet. Since I’ve had this tube for a whole, what, 5 days?... I’ve been more committed to just finally freaking making some significant gainage and just DOING IT. It’s time, you know? I mean, it won’t be easy. And I’ll freak out a lot. But there’s something that’s finally just…I dunno….CLICKED in my brain. Like, the idea of looking and being healthy (gah loathe that word!) isn’t so repulsive to me. I’m beginning to nurse the idea that I could even be pretty, acceptable, and even liked at a normal weight. And the fact that I’m starting to be okay with this idea terrifies me in and of itself!  I have a lot of work to do.

Anorexia was my everything. When God failed me, Anorexia stepped in and saved me, in a warped and twisted way. When I learned I couldn’t depend on others to keep me safe, and that the world was uncertain and scary, Anorexia took care of me, never left me, and certainly never failed me. And, irony of ironies: it was saving me just as quickly as it was killing me, yet I refused to let go. But that is changing.

Why is it changing, you ask? I think a good portion of it is my treatment team. I’ve never had a group of individuals care so damn much about me; be so invested in my health and well-being and recovery, and that really rubs off on me. I think it’s because Cade is getting older, and soon he’ll be old enough to see Mommy acting like a crazy psycho D-bag. It’s because I want to have another baby, not to replace Kendall, but so that Cade and Kendall can have another brother or sister. I want to have strength and energy to run and use my body without nearly stopping breathing. Maybe I want to recover this time because my life hasn’t changed in so long, and I’m realizing that I’m not happy much of the time. Maybe trying on Normal won't be so scary. So. I’m going to do it.

Time to stop revering anorexia, and revere a healthy body. A healthy me. Time to value family and friends and life. Time to restore my integrity. Time to breathe, and be okay with it.

Time to move on.