Open Letter To The Eating Disorder: I Can’t Be Fooled

Dear Eating Disorder,

You are a sneaky bastard. You creep up in the tiniest thought, and grow. You etch your name on the very identity of your victim, and that poor soul is no longer who they were, but are in essence, you. 

I fell for your tricks time and time again. I believed your lies. I would look back at old photos…see a smaller frame, thigh gaps, hipbones, ribs, spine, collarbone…I begin to remember those days. But I don’t remember them in the way that they actually occurred. I, instead, remember them the way you perceived it to look. 

At first glance I see elegance. I see cleanliness. I see smiles. I see a photogenic face. I see loosely fitting, cute clothes. I see long hair that I always kept neat and styled. I see structure and self-control. I see perfection. 

But in reality, that’s not what life was like in those photos. No. Life was tasteless; bland. It was full of fear and tears. It was lonely and isolated. The skinny girl in the photo was full of rage and sadness. She felt empty inside her heart and her stomach. She felt like a disappointment to her family, and a disgrace as a Child of the King. There were nights she was afraid to go to sleep because she might not wake up, so she would sit in her room and do countless sit ups and push ups. She would plan her next meal. She would spend hours fantasizing about food; she loved it and hated it. 

When no one else was home she would stand in front of the mirror and overload her phone with hundreds of photos of every angle of her body. She would then look through each one and scrutinize it. She was looking for more collarbone; more hipbone; more ribs; less belly; more thigh gap…and she would even study the tendons in her hands and feet. She wanted to see knuckles and knees clearly…and if she didn’t, there was a major low. She would run stairs until she couldn’t breathe, binge and purge, then cry herself to sleep.    

You are probably wondering how I remember this side of the photograph, but you see, I outsmarted you this time around, Eating Disorder. What you didn’t realize was when you thought I was taking just another picture of another bone, I was in fact capturing the truth for a time such as this; for a time when you would try to tempt me with a false perception of the past. 

   
 
So when I look at my photos and think that time with you was like this: 

 I can remember that it was, in fact, like this (the very day you caused me to be in the hospital): 

 
I do not want to look and feel how I did in this last photo, because that’s how it was every day when I was with you. I was tired, exhausted, starving, broken and dying. 

You can’t fool me Mr. Eating Disorder…the real pictures have brought back all the memories of how it truly was. And no matter how tempting those fake photos appear…I can’t be fooled. 

Sincerely, someone stronger.