Dear ED

Dear ED,

I’ve learned in treatment that two opposing thoughts can both be true, which helps me to realize what place you’ve had in my life. In our case, it’s true that I sometimes feel I still need you as a safety net to catch me when I fall, and it’s also true that I want to let you go now. You’ve helped me survive when I didn’t know if I would, and sometimes you even helped me discover moments of joy. For that, I could never resent you. I’m actually grateful to have met you, and now I need to grow stronger and more self-sufficient. I can’t keep you around if I want to be at peace and fulfilled.

It’s hard to let go of your hold on me as we’ve been doing life together for a long time. I’ve never not known disordered eating. At first, I didn’t like you and then I learned you were dependable. Now, I struggle to say goodbye.

Remember when I wasn’t allowed to eat when I was hungry, and we first met? I was crying on my grandparent’s’ staircase. We waited what seemed like hours for the ham and split pea soup to be ready for dinner, and my stomach hurt so badly. You told me that if I could just ignore the hunger pain, I’d be okay. I thought you were insane until dinner was finally served and I couldn’t eat it without the pain getting much, much worse. So, I did what you said to do. I put down my spoon and ignored the pain until it subsided. I realized you were right. If I could just ignore the pain, I’d survive it.

The next memory I have of us is when I learned that eating large quantities of food could feel good. I could eat until I felt happy even. I would eat enough to get to this point (at age nine), and then the fullness cues would catch up. I’d lie on my bed in more pain and thought I’d puke, but you were there with me then when I would have otherwise been alone. You told me to ignore the pain and it will go away.

Eventually, it wasn’t just hunger or fullness that was painful. Life was painful too, and I decided to fall back on old faithful. Maybe if I could ignore emotional pain, I could survive it.

Starve and go numb. Binge and feel joy. Over and over and over.

I don’t know if I ever had periods of recovery, but I do know that you’ve been very much a part of my identity since I chose to use you as a tool to cope with situations out of my control to change. What’s important now, though, is that I finally realized that I’m not okay living life this way because it’s no way to live. I noticed you were (are) one of the few joys I knew (know) anymore. I became numb to everything but food in the process of letting you take over. I think numbness is a high price to survive. It was worth it at the time, but I’m safe now and so it’s best for us to move on in our separate ways. In the long-term, you are the polar opposite of my goals and values, and I’m sick and tired of acting in ways that create more inner conflict. I want to be whole again.

Goodbye, ED.