… and I didn’t copy paste what I wrote other than I know I did write this is something that has never really been told the real truth about ever. I quoted one of the nasty comments and my rebuttal. I hope I don’t offend anyone here that has been watching my writing, reading my writing, and answering to my writing. I gave up a very quiet world of mine but I am tired of people out there not really knowing what this ED world is about, nor anything that goes along with it. Once you let it go it’s still painful. I’m not sure if it was easier to throw up my hatred for those who pained me, the anger for those who hurt me, that guilt for those I hurt, or anything emotional that I numbed out through my ED that I have to face without it. I used to think my ED was my best friend. No joke. I thought she was what got me through life. I thought my mom’s cooking in my tummy for a while to cuddle me was good because I ate that cuddle food when I was hurting, but then I wanted to get rid of the hurt. Does this sound ridiculous to anyone out there? That this was the way to function. Hurt, Anger, Guilt, …. comfort (food)… release (thow up). To the other ED, anorexia… who cares… who wants the comfort, who would want me… let me disappear. I think it all starts with EXPECTATIONS. And it ends with ED. Funny that.
Hugs to all of you who come here and wait and wonder or just are curious, or doing a project like my daughter did on EDs. Great model I am to my daughter who was born when I was 31 and I cried when I had a daughter. My other two were males so I thought they were okay. Sad thing is? They aren’t either. Boys growing into men are looking for the abs, the six pack that is not beer, the hope they don’t look like their parents too soon. WE the older generation taught them from our own societal upbringing how you SHOULD AND SHOULD look to be appealing … that cell phone rings and rings and rings and rings still here in this pathetic North American society – YOU HAVE TO BE PERFECT.
Irony is… my daughter has accepted herself so well and so much better than one of my sons.
And I thought she was going to be the self-image problem… back at me!
(well what do you expect from what I was called… a birth vessel. Is that not somewhat archaic??)