The Anorexic Wish

I want to be cured of my eating disorder more than anyone could ever fathom. I would wish someone dead before I wished an eating disorder on them. That may sound a little crazy, but I can guarantee if you spent five minutes in my mind, swimming from thought to thought, or looked into a mirror with my eyes, only to see a monster, you would probably understand.

I want to be cured of my eating disorder more than anyone could ever fathom, but I don’t want want to gain weight. I want to recover but I want to remain beautiful. I want to be the smallest person in the room forever because that is beautiful, isn’t it? I want to be fragile and tiny, because I don’t know how to define myself without those words attached. I want to be unnoticed by anything or anyone that may be unsafe. I want to be as frail as my heart feels in the middle of a panic attack. I want to be as hollow as the tree I hid inside when I played hide and seek as a child in the woods next to the detention pond on Frelinghysen Street. I want to recover but I don’t want to gain weight. The anorexic wish. I want to recover but I don’t want to gain weight. Because I don’t want to feel fat. It all really comes down to feeling fat.

I don’t want to feel fat.

I don’t want to feel fat.

If you are reading this thinking that fat is not a feeling, I get it. It’s not a feeling. Fat is not a feeling. But I feel fat. I feel fat now when I wake up, when I am trying on clothes for the day, when I am trying to decide if I want to eat lunch or skip it, I feel fat.

I know that “feeling fat” may not explain much to anyone, and you probably have no idea what I mean when I say it. It’s all about how I’m actually feeling- feeling fat is more than just feeling “full” or like I over ate. Feeling fat is like, every emotion that comes through the flood gate when I stop hyper focusing on anorexia.

I feel inadequate. Scared that I am not smart enough/good enough. Fearful that I am not pretty enough. I don’t feel funny enough. I just don’t feel like I am enough of anything, and now I am afraid that you see that to. So now I want to shift the focus off of these feelings and focus on something else, anything else.

But, those things are too hard to admit. Those things are too scary and are the things at the core of who I am as a person and that is scary stuff to touch. So instead I take a route that I think I can control, that I have always controlled. Bingo, I feel fat, I want to control my weight and appearance. Because I may not be able to argue with you on how intelligent or pretty you think I am, but you can’t deny that I am a wearing double zero jeans.

The anorexic wish is more than just being cured but not gaining weight. It’s being cured of the mental obsession surrounding food and body image, and compulsions, such as exercising and restricting, while simultaneously being able to not feel difficult emotions (or any emotions for that matter) and remaining relatively smaller than average.

These three things do not go together. I know. I cannot be cured, remain a skeleton with skin and feel nothing. Just because I know something isn’t possible doesn’t make it suck less. It actually kind of makes it suck more. Add to that the fact that our bodies begin recovering at a much faster rate than our brains, and bam there it is, the trifecta of chaos, aka where I am at.

“I want to have my cake and eat it to.”

Feeling everything more deeply than I ever have, hating what I see when I look in the mirror because I am no longer as small as I once was, while trying to cure myself body and mind by continuing to eat and processing my feelings. Yikes, what a mess.

Sometimes, like today, I feel stuck. I romanticize my anorexia. I look at old pictures and wish and pray I could wake up looking like that again. I touch my wrist, run my fingers across where my collar bones once jutted out and let my mind wander around my old sick battlegrounds.

I wonder what negative emotion I am shutting out, what I am trying not to feel, by hyper focusing on my body and food. I wonder if I’ll ever know what I’m hiding from in these moments. I wonder how I feel besides fat.

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