The Anorexic Voice

Most likely I have admitted this before, but I'm stuck in a hole and can't get out.  ....don't want to get out really. The past six weeks I've been trying to battle this anorexia on my own, but it has been wildly unsuccessful.  I knew the next option they (husband, therapists, doctors) were going to put in front of me.  In patient residential treatment. For lack of a better term, rehab.  The topic of rehab has monopolized just about every therapy session, conversation and thought in my mind for weeks.  Sadly for me, it only increases my anxiety which leads me to restrict food even more. I'm having a difficult time separating out whether or not I'm afraid to go or if it's just I don't want to go. There is still time to decide but from what I'm told, not much time.

There are now two parts of me.  There's the general internal monologue that everyone has and now there is the anorexic voice.  The anorexic voice is beginning to scream louder than my internal monologue.  It's hard not to obsess about food when it's the only voice I hear.  I look forward to the nights I know I'm alone and don't have to eat dinner in order to placate those around me.  The work week is my best friend right now--- no one is here to watch me (aside from those who silently watch and gossip) to make sure I eat.  It's become my freedom.  My safe place.

By going to rehab, I'll lose this anorexic voice which is has become my crutch, my safety blanket, my friend.  It's scary to think about giving it up.  I've lost all sense of who I am  because I've learned to live my life in secret and rely on this voice.  There are very few who are near and dear to me that know of this addiction.  I live in secret.  There is speculation, whispering, and gossip all around me. The only positive I can draw on is, I've learned who my REAL friends are.  The disappointment of some of the rest of these friends isn't really shocking but mostly sad. We're not kids and hearing "some people don't know how to deal with this" is a fucking cop out.  They just don't give a shit.  To think anorexia is attention seeking behavior is weak. It's ignorant and it makes me angry.  I'm very approachable and if someone, anyone were to come to me and ask a question or even to talk to me about being anorexic I will.  I would. At times,  I wish I was more private.  Then maybe I'd feel safer from my own secrets.

The pressure of being the best is getting to me.  I've always struggled with having to be number one.  I'm OCD-- I admit it.  The anorexia has lost the mystique of being a badge of honor and turned more into a badge of shame.  I spend hours trying to hide it with perfect hair, perfect make up, expensive clothes or expensive shoes.  Shopping is a tool I use to fill a void in my life.  The void being food.  No matter how I try to mask it, I still look sick.  I still look skinny.  I'm still anorexic.

I know where the triggers come from....  I haven't been the same since my mom got sick.  I've never accepted my father's death.  I don't like the long hours my husband works.  I was raped and pretended it never happened and at times I just blame myself for it.  And of course, we can't forget the grand finale of triggers: my grandmother.  I thank her for instilling in me at the age of 5 that in order to be beautiful you had to be thin.  I have a terrible body image and don't think I'll ever be comfortable in my own skin.  I'll never see how pretty people tell me I am.   I never met her standards with my appearance.  She always made it clear to me that it was a shame I was overweight because I had such a pretty face.  Who recovers from that? Can you recover from it?

The new plan has been my husband brings me breakfast and dinner and hopes I am "a big girl" by choosing to eat lunch.  I don't fault him and I appreciate his efforts but now, I don't feel like he's my husband but more my father.  He's done anything and everything he possibly can.  We've spent hours discussing this eating disorder. I'm tired.  He's tired. I'm not the wife I once was--- he's told me this and it breaks my heart.  I want to be her.  I really do but I truly have no control anymore.  The contempt I feel for my body has affected our sex life.  I can't possibly feel comfortable having sex when I hate my body so much.  At times, I hate the fact that I can see bones protruding and other times I feel bigger than big.  There is no middle ground and it's extremely unfair to him.  What is even more sad is aside from my mom, he is the first one to finally love me for who or what I am.  He shouldn't have to take this problem on and honestly, I feel like a bitch for putting him through this.

Secrets such as this can only make your general mood worse.  There are days I just want to announce to the world that I'm anorexic. I need to admit I have a problem because I am so tired of living a lie. Every day is a challenge to get dressed.  If something doesn't fit, whether its too small or too big, it dictates the mood of my whole day.  I'm a walking contradiction.  I hate that I'm so thin but I don't want to gain weight.  I'm sure it's the addiction or disease-- however you define it.  In the end, I'm so tired of all the noise in my head. I want to get better, I truly do but I don't want to have to go away to do it.  The two voices in my head fight all day long--- the anorexic voice says don't go, stay thin and the realistic voice tells me to try harder to beat this, eat because that doesn't mean I'll get fat, it just means I'll be healthy.

What I find the most interesting is the lack of tears.  I don't cry about it.  It's almost as if I can't cry. The best way to describe how I feel right now is like I'm isolated on an island all by myself.  I know my husband is tired of talking about it.  I can only imagine my friends are tired of hearing about it.  My therapist is probably tired of hearing about it too.  They know I need to get better and it must be frustrating to watch this....  I've begun to feel as though I have no one to talk to about it anymore.  My friends/family have reached the point of exhaustion with this.  They try to hide it but I can tell. ....and I don't blame them.  Who wants to hear about it?  Everyone has their own shit to deal with and no one wants to hear about how I can't eat.  Even I think it sounds ridiculous.

What I'm doing to myself doesn't make me feel good.  Not at all.  The power only lies with me though.  I have the tools, the support, the knowledge.  I should just be able to do it. I really don't know what's stopping me.  There are times I am hungry but I truly don't know why I won't eat. The anorexic voice convinces me I don't have to eat.  This voice gives you a false sense of control and power.  The reality is, the anorexia has all the control.  The voice has all the power.