I just wanted to lose 5 pounds...

Those are the words I have most regretted saying to myself: I just want to lose five pounds. I don't think one phrase could have changed my life more. I have spend endless hours in therapy analyzing why I wanted to lose those five pounds.

First I was told that I was vain. Mmm-hmmm. From a science major who doesn't wear makeup. Who chopped her hair off because braiding it in the morning was too much of a hassle.

Second I was told that I was getting revenge upon my mom for any number of things in my childhood, the worst of which was that she loved me too much. Do my mom and I have issues? Yep. And so do every other mother and daughter on the face of this earth. Yet the problem remains: if the anorexia was my way of paying my mom back for something, why did all the pain I caused her still render so freaking much guilt that some days I don't know if I can stand i.

Third I was told that those five pounds were a means of control. I am, admittedly, a control freak. I like things done my way. So I usually just do them myself, rather than have to put up with someone else's slip-shod manner. But weight? Yes I could control my weight, but that wasn't quite it.

There are even more theories, several told to me in a medical ward by a random psychiatrist sitting at the foot of my bed who had known me for all of five minutes. Let's just say it was to his benefit I was a control freak because otherwise I may have bit his head off. Oh, wait- anorexics aren't supposed to eat meat. Darn... Lucky man, him.

I can't explain anymore what triggered the eating disorder, what on earth I was thinking. I thought that losing five pounds would make me happy. I didn't know that eating salad all day wasn't that healthy for an active young college student. I didn't know that there was such a thing as too much exercise. And then I found myself in a hole from which I couldn't escape.

I have spent so long on the "why." I don't know anymore that there is a why to the anorexia. It has simply become a biological process that takes on a life of its own. I am taking my life back from it, and I want to look towards the future, towards the Carrie I might become, rather than the Carrie who initially fell victim to AN.

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2 comments:

Laura Collins said...

I like the way you think! And I look forward to the Carrie to come!

Jodi said...

I recently happened upon your blog and have truly enjoyed it. I couldn't agree more with most of the posts I have read so far. This post especially spoke to me because I have been struggling with the cause of my ED for so long. I've heard all of the same things - honestly I am like the poster child for an AN patient - Divorced family with hidden issues, former dancer and swimmer, straight A student, perfectionist and everything else. I like you am completely irate when people relate EDs and vanity. I barely brush my hair and don't even know where my make up is.
After several treatments and rounds with therapists I have been given all of the theories of causes and combinations of causes even to where I have been convinced that if I heal the relationship with my father I will be cured (not happening by the way). I still stand by the belief that Although I think these factors play a role, I tell my current therapist and doctor that really the only way I think I will be cured is to go in and take out the little part of my brain that is convincing me of these irrational thoughts.
Thanks for sharing and I look forward to reading more.

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I'm a science writer, a jewelry design artist, a bookworm, a complete geek, and mom to a wonderful kitty. I am also recovering from a decade-plus battle with anorexia nervosa. I believe that complete recovery is possible, and that the first step along that path is full nutrition.

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Have any questions or comments about this blog? Feel free to email me at carrie@edbites.com



nour·ish: (v); to sustain with food or nutriment; supply with what is necessary for life, health, and growth; to cherish, foster, keep alive; to strengthen, build up, or promote



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