Who in your life knows about your eating disorder? Has sharing about your eating disorder been helpful for you?
Well, seeing as this blog is public, anyone who is bored enough to read it ha.
But no, it’s vague common knowledge among friends/acquaintances. I’ve only confided in a select few people that I trust and only have a couple people left who have been with me from the very beginning. My extended family doesn’t even know, though I’m sure there’s been speculation as my weight-loss my first year of college was drastic and then even more my second year. Regardless, those who do know are supportive. If anyone were to ask me about it, I certainly wouldn’t turn them away. I’d be as honest as I could.
It took me a long time to open up about it though. It’s still something I have a hard time doing. I suppose having this blog is a tool to get over my fear of being open because it really is helpful to talk about it and be upfront. Building a support system is a crucial part of a recovery and in order to do that, you need to honest with the people closest to you. Keeping everything bottled up inside is like drinking poison. You’re just going to get sicker. Even though I am not my disorder or depression, it is a part of my identity. It has helped me grow into the person I am today, which I am happy to say is a person I love. To share my experiences is empowering. I don’t have much of a problem acknowledging that I have an eating disorder. But to reach out to loved ones when I’m struggling and expose them to the nature of the disease is extremely difficult. Depression is a cunning little bitch and can bring out the darkest parts of people. It’s still a struggle for me to open myself up to even the people closest to me, people I trust… I am often ashamed of my disordered, depressed self. Vulnerability scares me. What if I opened up to someone I love and after seeing that sick side of me, they left? What if it changed how they looked at me? What if they don’t love me anymore? None of those things are unreasonable for anyone to be afraid of. And it’s happened before. So to say to someone I love, and I know loves me, that I am depressed or struggling is a risk, one of which I rarely take. If I ever have taken it on you, well… know that you are special.