A Farewell Letter to my Eating Disorder

eating disorder recovery

I remember the night when I succumbed to your gentle whispers.

You promised me that, if I followed your words of wisdom, the pressures, anxieties and fears that I felt in the would would evaporate and finally leave me alone.

I wanted to be at peace, with myself and the world, and you said that, together, we could have achieve those things - if only we could manipulate what we put into our mouths and how hard we worked to please other people.

I believed you, wanting to finally be somebody, acceptable and, most of all, loved.

But, as I soon found out, your promises became as empty as my concave stomach and emaciated ribs.

Your gentle whispers became as sharp and painful as the jutting bones that protruded from my angular body.

As the months and years drew on, you became my worst enemy, but also my best friend. I could turn to you in the dark, but only with the reassurance that my life would remain just as black, bleak and lifeless.

Despite your lies and encouragement for me to become restrictive and deceitful around food, I clung to you as my only hope, out of fear that, without you, I would be less than a nothing, a no body.

But, no matter how much our hands intertwined, the more I was vanishing from this world, leaving family, friends and any previous interests behind.

You snatched any joy you could take from my life, as though I was the one who stole it from you. And, instead of giving it back, you replaced it by years of sitting in whitewashed rooms, with doctors and stern medical professionals who didn’t really understand, and other patients who were also suffering beneath the weight of your manipulation.

Through the frosty window of my hospital bed, I watched the seasons flow and flowers bloom outside, feeling as though I would never be able to experience such natural beauty because my body and mind was still and forever wilting...

Unknowingly, you also stole the twinkle in my eye, my zest for life and, eventually, the light in my soul too. I wept when you began to snatch the life of a friend too, while you comforted me with the chilling words saying “You will be next”.

I remember thinking that your voice would soon change, and that someday, maybe someday, we could forget this war and mi