I don't quite know where to start this post.
I was out with my classmates yesterday, and we had a pretty good time, but there was also something separating me from them. I just feel so much older than them. Chronologically, I'm only a year older, but I feel physically and mentally older. Because they didn't go through what I've gone through these past few years. I don't know that they've truly experienced the term "at the end of their rope." I have. It scars you, ages you. There's no real way look go back.
And then I look around at the support board I used to visit. I don't feel I fit in there, either. That I'm a little too impatient to be handing out advice on whether or not college is a good idea when you're passing out several times a day. Maybe it's just me and the fact that I'm a pretty straightforward person. I can be a wimp sometimes, but I tend to favor the problem solving approach. The emotional side of me is extremely strong- too strong, perhaps. But dealing with Ed only invokes the emotions of frustration and anger.
I don't feel "too recovered" for the board, because I don't think I am. Yet I don't feel a part of it anymore. I can relate, but it's much more of a realistic relating than a purely sympathetic one. On the other hand, I feel I've been through so much that I have a hard time relating to people. Or feeling that they can relate to me.
So here I am, floating between these two worlds. A part of both, but belonging to neither.
That is such a pattern of mine. In high school, I was far closer to my teachers than I was to most of my classmates. At my last two jobs, I felt more at home with workers who were over a decade older than me. In treatment, it was the same way with the staff. There were one or two girls who I felt a genuine connection with, but mostly I felt...different.
And not necessarily in a good way.
Sometimes I feel that no one gets me and no one ever will. That I may as well get used to this feeling because it ain't going to change.
Most of my roommates had no idea what to make of me. And I lived with several of them were before the ED really became obvious. I was just so odd. It was like they were never taught how to deal with people like me. I don't even know what "people like me" really means. I think it's more of a she-doesn't-fit-in-any-standard-categories thing.
That's been basically my life story.
I can never seem to bridge this gap between me and everyone else. Most of the time, trying involved me getting ridiculed and/or acting like a total phony. Certain parts of it stem from my lack of confidence in myself. If I say what I really think, people won't like me. I'm already the third wheel, I shouldn't push my luck. Or that they really don't understand what a shitty 21st birthday looks like, and I have no intention of telling them it involves being locked up in a psych ward.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy being a little different, a little out there, a little unusual. I just sometimes wish there were more people like me.
I don't quite know where to start this post.
- binge eating disorder
- biology of EDs
- body image
- disordered eating
- eating disorder
- Grand Theory of Eating Disorders
- narrating anorexia
- normal eating
- obesity hysteria
- weight gain
- weight loss
- Carrie Arnold
- 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.
Drop me a line!
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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