Treatment Day 20 : You Could Call Me Mad

So long story short I was having a fantastic day today.

I realized that I love being around the girls in treatment. They know me, all of me and still accept me. I am not anxious around them. I do not second guess myself, it's just easy being around them.

I also thought about how far I have come and the changes I've made in these short 4 weeks. I'm proud of myself. And now I get to pick my own breakfast choices (instead of do what they tell me to). A taste of freedom!

So I was just coasting today. Doing the work etc and then BAM.

Buzz kill.

I am talking to my friend about how I can't get out of treatment early, since they make me stay until 6:30 PM no matter what.

Then I read "They force you to eat dessert, make you sit aroudn and relax, are you sure this place isn't Guantanamo Bay?"

Oh. Well. Ok.

That was a bit insensitive, however it's hard to understand my disease unless you have it.
Most think it's just that I think I'm fat. It's so much more than that. It's being trapped in these rules and ways and rituals that you must do in order to feel ok and normal. It's a coping mechanism for when shit goes down in my life. The body image and low self esteem is also a factor too of course and very hard, but it's so much more than that.

I answered them with " Sadly what sounds leisurely to others really is torture to me."

"Understandable, I'm just saying there are a lot worse ways to go out."

I ended the conversation right there and hot, angry tears hit my eyes.

I told the girls what was going on and you could see the discomfort and anger in the room.

It may seem silly, it may seem like an easy fix, but it's not. It's a DISEASE. I am sick. My mind has become so twisted and misconstrued that being made to put something that I'm petrified of into my body and sit with it is actually one of the worst things that could happen.

I write this blog to help others understand that, while it doesn't make sense, it's real and it's hell.

There is a new girl today and my heart breaks and my stomach turns when I see her.

She is next to nothing. Her clothes are baggy because I know she can't stand the feeling of anything tight. She  tried wiping her dressing on her napkin, taking the long way around the dining room to burn calories and literally can't stand still for fear of being stationary. She has dead eyes. ED has a strong hold on her.

Now if someone were to say the things that were said to me today, maybe it'd be a bit more real. The hurt that was caused and the insensitivity that was within that conversation.

I guess I'm just frusterated because it completely devalued my illness. Yes there are worse things. I know that. But well this is my shit and my life and you just demeaned the fuck out of it. I'm speaking from anger, hurt and also a place that needs to be not passive but rather assertive.

So I chose to not hang out with that person tonight.

Ironically, I called another friend who invited me out to dinner and I just had a chill night. Not regretting missing out on my other plans as I thought I would.

I'm starting to stand up to not only ED but to things that aren't internal that bring me down.

I'm doing this for me and it feels so empowering.

Good night God bless.