Hello darkness, my old friend

I don't think that I've had a night this bad in a long, long time.  I'm assuming that it's some sort of combination of low blood sugar, depression, exhaustion, and stress.  I don't know.  All I know is that I am spiraling into depression.  Not the suicidal, I want to die depression.  But the I literally cannot move off of my bed and function kind of depression.

Which kind of really, really stinks because I have an exam tomorrow.  For which I have not reviewed my notes, read the chapters, or prepared in any way, shape, or form.  So that's how my night is going. And literally at this point, I am considering keeping my butt in my bed all day tomorrow because functioning is not a thing that is going to happen any time soon.

I don't know why it is all so hard.  It shouldn't be.  I mean, I logically know that depression is a chemical imbalance in your brain.  I know that there's really nothing that I can do to help myself get through it.  Well, other than take my medication (which I'm scared to start doing without seeing a psychiatrist), exercise (which is triggering for my eating disorder), eat right (which is not going to happen right now), get enough sleep (I'm in college...), and talk to a therapist (which won't help, yay chemical imbalances!).  But knowing what I have to do and doing it are two completely different things...

And even just looking at the irrationality of my thoughts and emotions right now... it's rather frustrating.  The fact that it's starting to impact, at a very drastic level, things that I fought so hard to keep, is not okay.  My schoolwork, my job, my friendships... I don't know.

Normally I would nurse my depression by staying in bed all day and watching Netflix or television and not eating.  I would spend the day sleeping and not caring that I wasn't getting anything done.  But I actually have responsibilities tomorrow.  Like my exam.  And the prospie.  And Big/Little APO Revs.

So I cannot avoid it all.  My desire to please people is going to overcome my depression once again.  Well.  At least my desire to fulfill my immediate obligations is going to.  I'm not sure about things like class or lunch/dinner dates or my exam.  Because right now, I don't think I could even attempt to manage it.

Everything just seems really hard right now.

And I know that I really need to go talk to someone about this.  I know that I'm not doing okay and that I need to sit down and be real with someone, but there's two obstacles to this that I am experiencing.

The first one is relatively common with people with depression.  I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling to anyone.  Not even psychology people.  My friends will not understand it.  My roommates, my family... None of them will really get it unless they've been there.  Or they'll be like my mom was and continually ask me how I'm feeling or if I'm doing any better today than I was yesterday.  And even those who know that I'm struggling with things right now, I feel like I can't tell them because I don't know how to explain what I am feeling in words to anyone.  I just feel it.

I did, however, read an article the other day that very accurately captured what depression feels like.  You can read it here.

There is also a very accurate Buzzfeed post that captures depression very well.

Then there's the fact that I am definitely still in denial about how bad things are getting.  I mean, what logical reasoning did I have behind not wanting to talk to my parents about all of this or about not wanting to leave school to take care of my health?  I don't know.  But if I'm at the point where I am counting calories, taking pills, obsessing over weight, not being able to concentrate on my academics, forgetting that I have things to do, not moving out of my bed for long periods of time, and all of the other symptoms that existed during my senior year and still do not care, then I am not well enough to be here.

But I also think that a lot of it has to do with the depression that I'm struggling with right now.  Depression causes apathy.  And it also causes a lot of other things, as well.  Like the urge to want to cry to someone and be held and loved and taken care of because I am at my breaking point, but the simultaneous need to isolate and remain silent and not talk about it because social interaction is really just too much.

But then, even if I spoke about how I'm feeling, people would not understand.  Or they would walk away.

Keeping friends right now is very, very difficult.  Mainly because social interaction is difficult.  Getting out of bed is difficult.  Breathing is difficult.  All of those autonomic functions that are supposed to be normal and natural--they're about five hundred thousand times more difficult when you are experiencing severe depression like I am right now.  People don't want to be friends with you or try to help you when you can't even get out of bed.

Then there's the fact that people don't understand how the connection between eating disorders and depression works.  Did the eating disorder cause the depression?  In which case, just start eating again and the depression will get better.  Did the depression cause the eating disorder?  Well, that sucks, but you have to get up and eat.  Sadness isn't an excuse for not eating.  I don't even understand how it works.  My psychiatrist doesn't either.

What people can do, however, is be there for support.  Here are a couple of links on how to help friend who is struggling with depression.  Keep in mind that these may not work with everyone, but from what I've read, they seem relatively okay.  Some of these things have worked in the past for me and my friends, while some haven't.  But check these out:

How to Help a Depressed Friend (And When to Stop Trying)
Five Ways to Help a Depressed Friend

I'm going to be struggling with this for a very, very long time.  It may or may not ever get better. Right now, I'm leaning more toward the not part of that.  I'm probably always going to have depressive episodes.  And every time, they are going to suck.  They are going to be miserable and make me want to pull my hair out and push people away and cry and stay in bed and not move ever.

Just like right now.

And right now, I don't know how I'm going to deal with it.  Because I feel too overwhelmed and depressed and stressed out and too much nothingness and loneliness and emptiness and exhaustion to deal with this in any sort of relatively healthy manner.  Maybe tomorrow things will be better... But I really doubt it.

Fear Food vs. Trigger Food

I was talking with my social psychology professor today after my counseling appointment.  And her husband came in, realized he forgot his wallet in his office, left, and returned, setting a Halloween Oreo down in front of me.

I kind of freaked out a bit.

Because there was an Oreo.  And I was expected to eat it.  And I hadn't eaten anything all day.  And it was an Oreo.  With calories in it.  And fat.  And it was a cookie.  A fear food.  An Oreo.

"Oreos are the worst cookie." 

My chemistry teacher in high school hated Oreos.  She had all sorts of reasons about why they were bad for you.  And well, I don't like them much either.

Fear foods.  They suck.  I have a lot of them right now.  Bacon. Sausage. Bread. Cheese. Pizza. Chips. Non-diet soda. French fries. Fast food. Mac and cheese. Mashed potatoes. Cookies. Cake. Candy. Doughnuts. Restaurant food in general. Food that I do not know the specific calorie count of. Hot chocolate. Fried food. Peanuts. Peanut butter. Butter. Sour cream. Eggs. Caloric beverages. Anything like that.

Today I learned that there is a distinction between "fear foods" and "trigger foods."  You can read more about that here.  Basically, a fear food is a food that a person with an eating disorder is literally afraid of. It could be something that person thinks will pass calories just by touching, which is an example of a type of magical thinking called the law of contagion, which is the belief that if two things touch, the properties of one will be transferred to the other. Or the food itself will just elicit anxiety to the patient.  These foods are systematically eliminated from a person's life.  One of the goals of treatment is to eliminate fear foods to allow a recovered person to enjoy them in every day life again.

Fear foods during treatment

When I was in treatment during my senior year, my family therapist had me make a list of my fear foods and a list of foods that I just didn't like.  I couldn't even lie about which were which because she had my mom check it, based against what I liked as a child.  And then she told my mom to feed those things to me frequently, on the premise that once my body was nutritionally stable, the fears would slowly go away and I could return to regular, intuitive eating.

I remember one morning before one of my bowling matches, my mom had made me bacon and eggs to eat. This was still pretty early on in treatment. I flipped out. I absolutely refused to eat the two strips of bacon that were on my plate. And per my family therapist's instructions, my mom said, okay, but we're going to sit here until you decide to eat it, which means that you might not be going to your match. I think we sat in silence for a good 45 minutes until my dad got involved. He started yelling and threatening and then my parents started arguing and talking about me like I wasn't even in the room. I think I snuck up to my room then, but my mom said that we still weren't leaving the house until I ate it.

I think that I managed to get away with eating only one piece of bacon that day. It was the first time in four or five years that I had eaten bacon. And I haven't eaten any since then. I'm still afraid of the caloric and fat content involved in eating it.

Trigger foods are foods that trigger unhealthy eating behaviors.  In me, they set off a binge-purge cycle.  A person who eats a trigger food cannot control their behaviors much in the same way that when an alcoholic has one or two drinks, they cannot stop drinking.  The physiological changes that had been made in the brain are too strong and the cravings too intense for a person to stop on their own once they begin. In treatment, the goal is to help the person avoid trigger foods, until they reach a mindset where they can handle eating trigger foods without being triggered.  Keep in mind that a person may also never reach this point, just like some alcoholics can never have alcohol once they enter into recovery.

For me, my biggest trigger food is ice cream.  Any time I eat any type of ice cream or any kind of ice cream, I have to fight off a binge-purge cycle.  More often than not, I will eat a normal amount of ice cream and not be able to resist throwing up.  It's something that I cannot keep in my body because of the powerful triggering effects it creates. So now I just don't eat it.

Trigger foods are different from fear foods in that they elicit a behavioral response, while fear foods elicit an emotional response.  A lot of times, these two types of foods can be confused.  I know that they were confused for me during treatment.

Both are things that need to be dealt with in treatment in order for someone to fully overcome their eating disorder and return to "normal" eating.  And maybe some day, later on in my recovery journey, I will be able to conquer my fear foods, but for right now, I'm just going to take it one day at a time.

Back to the Oreo story. The reason that he brought us the Oreos is apparently because "treats increase positive affect, but only if they are not expected." He then went on to explain the study behind it and how when he was working in someone's lab, they used to give their participants a cookie when they did the debriefing to increase their positive emotions. I do have to admit that I felt a little bit better because he surprised me with something as small as Oreo, although I'm not sure that it made up for the amount of anxiety that it provoked... These studies are focused on the "normal population" after all, so generally not people with eating disorders. (Future study idea? I think yes.)

And that Oreo? I ate it. Not in front of my professor and her husband (who is also a professor, but not my professor, so I feel like I can't loop him into the "my professor" category), but I ate it.  I think that might be progress.  I'll take the little victories when they come.

Why Recovery is Worth It: So that I can eat what I crave and enjoy it.

Friends and Triggers.

"Sorry for creeping, but I also just read your post before that from the wedding. It made me cry. I haven't seen you much lately--I didn't know how rough of a time you had been having recently :( I love you so much, you are a wonderful person! You will overcome this. There WILL be a time when you will be able to look at things without seeing them through your eating disorder, I just know it. Hearing about your experiences is painful, and it makes me angry at this disorder for affecting you and hurting you, as silly of a stance as that may be :( I'm sorry I can't truly relate to everything that you have to face in order to keep healing and recovering, but I will always care. I may be relatively helpless for the most part, but I'm here for you."

Amanda and I last year.

I received this message from one of my very best college friends, who has been a lifesaver for the past year and a half, after I shared with her my post about my dislike of Halloween and my insecurities that come with this holiday. I dissolved into tears instantly. Just seeing her "get it." Seeing her understand and just accept my anorexia for what it is--a disease. Something that I cannot control as hard as I try. It's a rare moment.

It's very rare that I find these people. It is very rare that I get this reaction. Most of the time, what I hear from the general population of my friends is an apology, some awkwardly phrased questions about it, and then a topic change. And then there's the people who tell me that I should just pray about it. Or the ones who say they don't understand because they think I'm beautiful... Because that's all that eating disorders are about.

I've actually gotten a lot of flack today for disliking Halloween. Some people get it and others don't. I actually had a conversation with one of my other friends about it today. She told me that Halloween isn't all about food. It's conversations like this that remind me just how consumed I am and just how much the general population does not understand about eating disorders.

And as I'm starting to finally convince myself to give this very unclear, terrifying and unfinished route of healing a try, I know that I'm going to need friends. More than ever. But what sucks is that my anorexia has destroyed so many of my relationships this year. I am more isolated than I have been in a long, long time. Or at least, I feel that way.

But then there's also the idea that people don't understand exactly how hard this is. They don't understand how eating disorders work. And normally, I would sit down and take the time to teach them. To teach them how to support me, how to talk about it with me, how the whole thing works, but I am just so tired of it right now. I'm at the point where I just want people to understand it all and just know. I don't want to have to teach them. I don't want to have to explain it.

I want people to react like Amanda and be angry at the disorder for all that it's taken from me and how it's hurting me. I want people to listen and not see me as crazy. I want people to understand that I need them to walk through this with me--to be patient with me on bad days, to push me forward, to celebrate the small victories like eating a snack or having a meal with someone or getting out of bed in the morning. I want these people on my side, supporting me in this. Because I can't do this alone.

I was at the grocery store a couple days ago with the second friend I mentioned, C, and another girl, M. The other girl had (and in my opinion still does) struggled with anorexia previously and knew about my current struggle with it. I figured that she would get it. But we're at the grocery store and she makes a comment about not wanting to get something because it's "not healthy." The other girl encourages her to put it back, while I encourage her to get it if she wants it. She decides to put it back. C tells me that M is trying to lose weight and she's only trying to support M. I say something about how M doesn't need to lose more weight and it isn't healthy for her, mainly from an eating disorder stand point. This event was just triggering for me. But that coupled with the fact that M continues to talk about weight and how much she wants to lose and throw around numbers and tell me about how she hasn't eaten... when she knows that I'm not in a good place. She personally had an eating disorder and knows how to talk about them. She told me that she wants to help support me through this. But she is triggering to be around.

I had another friend who I spoke with recently about Halloween and skimpy costumes and body comparison and she responded to me that she understood and that I wasn't alone because she did it too. And then she said, "They're all so skinny... It's gross." And I don't know why that statement made me so uncomfortable... maybe because I had just finished the conversation with my other friend and was frustrated with her not understanding. But in my mind, I thought, if she thinks that the girls who I am, for lack of a better word, idolizing are gross, then what does she think of me? Does she think I'm gross for wanting that?

Lately I've found it so hard to just go through normal life without being triggered by something. Whether it's in class and we're talking about the physiological and brain basis of feeding or in another class talking about weight bias. Or in my apartment and my roommate is talking about what she's eaten that day. Or I'm walking somewhere and see a girl running on the sidewalk.

I've forgotten how hard this all is. How alone I feel in this. How misunderstood I feel.

It's frustrating when people don't understand, when I finally get up the courage to talk about it and people aren't understanding and don't seem willing to learn. It just perpetuates the shame that I feel and the secrecy that I hold around my eating disorder. And how much harder this makes recovery.

Why recovery is necessary: So I can have the strength and energy to teach others the facts about eating disorders and how they can support a loved one recovering from one and so I can not be triggered by the littlest things.

Why I Hate Halloween

I hate Halloween.  Apparently, that makes me a horrible person.

Halloween has become all about the costumes, the pumpkins, and... the candy. 

And for someone who struggles with any type of eating disorder, this is the most terrifying thing.  

Halloween signals the beginning of the holiday season. A time that begins on October 31st and ends on January 1st.  On Halloween, it is expected that a person over-indulges in chocolate and candy corn and cupcakes and cookies and all sorts of sweet treats.  

Replace cookie with any Halloween food.

For people like me, who are just starting to seek out "real recovery," this poses a huge problem.  I literally cannot walk anywhere without being bombarded with sweets.  Last night, my dining hall had its Halloween dinner, which meant that our dining center was filled with candy and caramel apples and cupcakes and sweet treats and so much "junk food." The fact that there was an abundance of "unhealthy" foods, most of which are fear foods of mine, was just overwhelming.  Then there's the idea that there were limited low-calorie options available at dinner for me to eat.  Which "normal eating" should not revolve around calories of the food consumed, but at this point in my recovery, I am having a hard enough time consuming anything at all.  What I am eating, I am calorie counting and right now, I am unhealthily limiting of my caloric intake.  So when there are not low calorie options available, I am less likely to eat anything (remember that anorexics do not simply just not eat--they do eat, just not enough to maintain a healthy energy level).  

Or it can take a completely different form.  

Around so many high calorie comfort foods, I am often tempted, especially since I have been restricting so much, to just eat everything.  This would be diagnostically considered an objective binge, something that is very common with patients with anorexia just because of how the human brain works.  But after the binge episode comes the temptation of purging.  Yeah.  Then the shame and guilt that comes along with that. 

Then there's a completely different aspect of Halloween that a lot of people don't even think about.  The costumes.  As a young female, the costumes have less and less material.  It seems like Halloween is an excuse to show as much skin as possible so that you can be seen as "sexy."  

Well, body image issues accompany eating disorders.  I don't dress up for Halloween anymore, mainly because I don't celebrate it anymore, but also because I don't care about it.  It's a holiday that makes me uncomfortable because of food reasons, so I choose to ignore its existence as much as I can.  

But not celebrating Halloween doesn't remove the stress of seeing all of the other girls in barely any clothes and it doesn't stop me from making comparisons of myself to them.  Usually, these exist in a distorted form of upward social comparisons (distorted because I cannot accurately perceive my own appearance), which result in low self-esteem and feelings of inadequacy.  Which then fuel my anorexia.  It's a vicious cycle.  

 Trick or treating junior year.

Trick or treating senior year.

When I was younger, even when I was in high school and even with my eating disorder, I used to love Halloween.  I loved dressing up and going out with my friends to get treats.  I was able to focus so much on the fun aspects of it that I could ignore the uncomfortable-ness caused by my anorexia.  I'm not sure what changed--I think it can be attributed to both internal and external factors, though.  It's not just one or the other.  

So tomorrow?  It's going to be a particularly rough day for me for all of the reasons I listed above.  I'm not particularly looking forward to it, unlike every other person I know and am surrounded by. 

I just hate Halloween.  I didn't used to, and maybe some day I won't.  But for now, I'm just going to be okay with the fact that it invokes so much unpleasantness in me and pull out my distress tolerance skills and hope it all ends soon.

Why recovery is necessary: So I can learn to love Halloween and everything that it encompasses and not just be worried about just getting it over with.  

Weddings and Memories

Meg, myself, and Steve after the reception.

I went to a beautiful wedding on Sunday.  My cousin, Meg, married the love of her life in New York. She made the most stunning bride.

I adore Meg.  She has helped me so much just by being a voice of reason and understanding while I've been struggling... mainly because she had been there herself.  And although neither of us are the most vocal people when in person and we don't talk all that much when we're together, she has been a great support from afar.

I cried my eyes out at her wedding when her sister gave the Maid of Honor toast.  Kate spoke about how after she left for college, Meg went through a hard time in her life.  I know, by talking with Meg, that this was when she developed anorexia.

And really this wedding was wonderful and I loved being able to attend and celebrate these two wonderful young adults.  However, it was a rough night for me.

Even if I had not been struggling with my anorexia for the past few weeks, I would have felt entirely way too insecure at that wedding.  I'm a young, single woman.  I go to see family and I get asked if I've met any boys at college.  I go to weddings and am the person who has to awkwardly wait for her dad to ask her to dance or for her brother to leave his girlfriend and dance with her.  I'm the third wheel all the time.

My fear is that I am never going to get married or even have a boyfriend, for that matter.  That I'll never find someone who will love me despite all of my insecurities and imperfections.  That no one will find me beautiful.

I guess that brings me to one of my most insecure points about that wedding.  I felt so self-conscious and judged and like everyone was judging me.  Cocktail hour was awful for the fact that it only revolves around food.  Dinner was hard.  Dessert was hardest.

It was so hard to enjoy that beautiful and amazing day when I was completely consumed with how I looked and what I was eating and how many calories were in every bite that I took.  I didn't enjoy the wedding because I was too busy feeling uncomfortable because I had food in my stomach, because I couldn't get rid of the food, and because I felt like the most hideous person there.

What I did to calm all of these feelings shocked even me.  I decided to drink.  Champagne, gin and tonic, wine, spiked cider--any of it that was available to me and that my brother would give me.  The alcohol definitely had depressant effects on my nervous system, as well as my emotions.

It was a bad night.  A bad night that should have been great.  A bad night that could have easily been avoided.

Eating disorders ruin nights.  They ruin moments.  They ruin memories.

I don't remember most of my high school years because of my eating disorder.
I don't remember that trip to Disney World with the band or the time we went to the OSU Skull Session or any of the vacations to the beach.
I don't remember laughing and having fun with my friends.

All I remember is trying to avoid the food.

I remember how one year, I wouldn't let anyone else make lunch when we were at the beach so that I could make my own food in the least caloric way possible.  I remember only eating sandwiches of lettuce and mustard.  Which are disgusting, by the way.
I remember getting into literal fights with my band directors and friends because I refused to eat lunch and they wanted to make me.
I remember one person opening a Snickers bar and handing it to me, saying "There.  I opened it for you.  Now you have to eat it."
I remember sitting on the floor on the band room after a late night football game and China hand-feeding me Cheese-Its, one-by-one.
I remember the taste of Wendy's chili the second time around.
I remember going to the park and throwing up in a soft drink cup because I didn't want anyone to know that I wasn't getting better.
I remember crying and not wanting to get out of my bed.

I remember so much more... but only about my eating disorder.

And what about memories from this wedding?  I'm only going to remember the bad.  I'll only remember how I was miserable because there was so much food.  Or how I couldn't smile and be happy because I was so depressed.  How I wouldn't go out and dance because I felt so self-conscious.  How triggered I was by the simple fact that my dress was too big.

The wedding only confirmed the idea that I'm not okay.  That I need help.  And thanks to my wonderful, gorgeous cousin, that healing and recovery are very real things.   

I wish that I could go back six years and make it all better.  That I could stop myself before any of this even started and say, "Sarah, you want to remember your band bonfires and your trips and lunch time with friends at school.  You want to remember weddings and conferences and movie nights.  You want to remember how Maddy's brownies taste or how it feels to drink hot chocolate after a long Friday night game.  Don't go down this path."

Why recovery is necessary: So that I can remember all of the good times and not just my eating disorder.

Resistance

"You're being really resistant to this." 

I'm a psychology major.  I know the dangers of anorexia.  I know what can happen if I don't seek help.  I know that if I keep going down this path, I am at risk for all of these things:

• Anemia
• Amenorrhea and the inability to have children
• Osteopenia/osteoporosis
• Heart rhythm abnormalities
• Heart attacks 
• Brain shrinkage
• Kidney complications including kidney stones and kidney failure
• Depressed immune system
• Fluid and mineral abnormalities
• Constipation due to low calories and fiber intake
• High cholesterol levels
• Death
• Abnormal blood counts
• Elevated liver enzymes
• Seizure
• Lanugo
• Low blood pressure
• Dehydration
• Shutdown of major body systems
• Increased risk for bone breakage

As well as worsening of what I am experiencing right now: 

• Slowness of thought and impaired concentration
• Feeling cold
• Dry skin
• Hair loss
• Mood swings 
• Sleep disturbance
• Depression
• Fatigue
• Dizziness and fainting
• Brittle nails

I know how bad all of these things are for me.  I know the importance of early intervention for eating disorders.  I know that it's only going to get worse from here on out.  And I'm still going to be resistant to any form of treatment.

If I was one of my friends, I would argue and fight for them to go get help.  I wouldn't give up on them until they were seeing a therapist and a nutritionist and a medical doctor.  But it's not a friend in this situation.  It's me.

I am against the idea of going to the counseling center here at school because they don't know what they're doing most of the time.  And I don't want to end up with another Alanna situation, where I'm only getting worse because the therapist isn't trained well enough to help me.  So I was told that I have to talk to someone from my old team at home to figure out what to do here.  And initially, I was on board with this.  I emailed Katie, tried to set up a time to talk with her, but she never called me.  My professor is pushing me to make a phone call to her myself, but I won't.

It's not that I can't.
I just won't.

And I think that this is the most frustrating thing of all for me... I know what I need to do.  I know the steps that I need to take.  I know how to find professionals in this area outside of the college counseling center.  And you know what?  I'm fighting it all the way.

I know what I'm doing isn't healthy.  I know the steps I have to take in order to get better.  But for whatever reason--whatever psychological/physiological reason--I won't do it because I am not willing to give up the control I have right now.  I'm not willing to admit to poor self-image and poor opinions of myself.  And I'm not willing to give up what has become so comforting to me.

That's why I'm resisting.  And honestly, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to get past it.  Last time I had parents forcing me, but this time... this time I have to want it.

And right now, I'm not sure that I do.

Shame and Secrets.

It's been a long time since I've sat down to chronicle my journey of healing from my life-threatening battle with anorexia.  It's been a long time since I've really checked in on myself and looked at how I was doing and what I should be doing better.   It's been a long time since I've taken time for myself.

Brief catch up:
I'm midway through my first semester of sophomore year and enjoying [almost] every single minute of it.  I attended the NEDA Conference 2013 [more about that to come!] and I made the decision pre-sophomore year that I wasn't going to seek out professional help this year because, well, things weren't going to get bad enough to need that.

Well.  It's almost the end of October and five days ago, I sat down with one of my favorite professors of all time and told her that I was relapsing.  Not something that I wanted to do.  I mean, she's an amazing woman and I am such a fan of her and how she lives her life.  I'm trying to get a job as her research assistant [which I've decided just probably isn't going to happen and I'm okay with that] and I'm trying to manage her impressions of me.

I confessed to my greatest flaw.  And immediately regretted it.

That's the thing that sucks about eating disorders: the shame, the secrecy, the judgement.  And even though she has assured me that she doesn't judge or see me any differently than she did when she didn't know this information.  We talked about eating with people and she told me that other people really aren't paying attention to what you are eating or how you are eating or when or anything like that... But it's still so uncomfortable for me.

Regardless of how much she tries to tell me that seeking out help is strong, that it's okay, that it doesn't have any impact on her perception of me, I am not believing it.  It's so hard for me to look at her or talk to her and not think that she's judging me or that all she can see when she looks at me is an eating disorder or a failure at food or someone who is weak.

And as hard as it is to look at her and talk, it's what I need.  I immediately hated that I had told her this secret.  But I also know the nature of eating disorders--they live on secrecy.  They feed on it.  It's how they win.

So if I have to live through the awkwardness of feeling shame and judged and all of the negative emotions associated with being real in order to be free of the clutches of this [something that I'm not even sure is possible at this point], I guess it's what I have to do.  And I have to trust my professor when she says that she does not judge me for having an eating disorder and that she believes that I can do this.

Because I need someone to believe that I'll be okay, especially when I can't.
And I need someone to push me toward healing when I don't have the strength to do it for myself.
And more than that, I need someone to remind me that I am not alone.