richard rich richey ritchie richy glitzy welsh princess
Most people who have never had an eating disorder touch their lives only know what they see from television:
Anorexia is an illness where one is afraid to get fat, doesn’t eat, and quickly becomes an emaciated skeleton on the verge of death.
Bulimia is an illness where one is afraid to get fat, eats, and throws everything up in a matter of minutes.
Compulsive overeating isn’t an illness and is the product of lazy people who eat too much and don’t exercise.
EDNOS isn’t even a thing.
All seem to be curable as long as the person suffering makes a conscious decision to just eat, stop throwing up, or stop eating too much. It’s an illness of choice, and in some circles, it’s even a desirable illness, and between skipping meals or purging or bingeing, life goes on as usual without any consequences. Eating disorder behavior is suddenly no more dangerous than the casual drink or cigarette, and those featured on Oprah or Dr. Phil are just mentally fucked-up, and the average person with an eating disorder is fine, fine, fine.
But this is what they don’t see (speaking from an anorectic’s point of view):
o They don’t see when you’re struggling to get out of bed in the morning, not just because you are too weak from not eating, but because you are dreading your entire work day and unable to fathom the thought of being around people, places or things.
o They don’t see the wedge that’s placed between you and your loved ones, whether it’s because you are now isolating yourself or because your loved ones refuse to watch you kill yourself.
o They don’t see the minutes upon minutes you spend in one aisle of the grocery store, agonizing over whether to buy the 25 calorie per serving bag of mixed veggies you hate or the 30 calorie bag per serving of green beans you can tolerate, all while you shiver because it’s unbearable to stand with the freezer door open.
o They don’t see the constant anxiety that runs through your mind on a minute-to-minute basis — worrying about this, that, and everything, from whether or not you look fat to how many calories are in your toothpaste to whether or not people can hear your stomach growling or whether or not you’re doing this right or that wrong or upsetting this person or that person or fill-in-the-blank.
o They don’t see the constant guilt you have because you have to hide your illness from everybody, even from those who already know.
o They don’t see the skill and patience it takes to engage in your rituals: weigh at this time, with this scale, on this floor, with no clothes; eat this food at this temperature, with these measurements, with these 0 calorie condiments.
o They don’t see the total and utter feeling of hopelessness and despair because even though having an eating disorder ruins most things, it feels like not having a disorder would ruin all things.
o They don’t see the constant impact an eating disorder has because they see the act we play in between starving, purging, or bingeing. They see the really sick ones on TV, or that one washed-up celebrity who jumped on the ANOREXIC BAND WAGON for two months, or the person on Intervention who was molested repeatedly as a child.
What they don’t see is us — people who are able to go to work, get the job done, smile, and pretend like everything is okay, all the while going the entire day eating less than what everyone else had for breakfast or spending an entire day off from work in and out of the bathroom after having taken laxatives while others are relaxing or getting on and off and on and off the scale in the morning when other people are out ordering their regular coffee at Starbucks.
””“”“why did you cut your hair?::”“”“” i cut my hair to piss you off. specifially you, i was thinking of you when i cut my hair. i was thinking that you, specifically, would be interested in what my newly short hair meant to you, specifically.