“I miss my Anorexia”
Please don’t be misled by the title of this post- this isn’t some awful pro-ana blog. Anorexia is not something to be missed. It is an awful disease and freeing myself from its clutches is the best thing that has ever happened to me. So why, then, do I often have the most vile of thoughts “I miss my anorexia”?
I often have this thought when something goes wrong in my life. I miss a workout, I oversleep, I do badly on an assignment, I eat an “unhealthy” food. A nasty little voice in my head says “this wouldn’t have happened if you were still anorexic”. There is a dark, terrible part of my brain that romanticises the person I was when I was anorexic. I got up at 6am to work out and prepare the tiniest of salads in my tupperware for lunch. I was a model student, making up for not being the brightest by being the hardest working. In this most evil part of my brain, the anorexic version of me is the best version of me. She is motivated, disciplined, she would never touch the impure foods I eat now, or miss a workout for a social engagement, or sleep in late. The me now is lazy, pathetic, mediocre.
It is convenient, therefore, that I have built a larger, lighter part of my brain that knows the truth. The Amy with Anorexia was not perfect- she was suffering. Every day when she woke up at 6am she felt like screaming. When she went on runs, her whole body felt like it was on the verge of collapse and her heart felt like it would give out. She might have worked hard in school, but she could never concentrate because all she could think about was food. Her organisation became messy because her undernourished brain was so easily confused. Every time she sat eating her bland, slimy salad she wished for something warm and filling. She broke down crying multiple times a day, lashed out in anger at those she loved, hurt her family.
Even though I know the truth, I still catch myself saying “I miss my Anorexia” and I have realised something about the times in which I say this. They are all times in which I feel I am not in control. Anorexia gave me the illusion of control, and the illusion of control is an addictive thing. Anorexia convinced me that by controlling my food intake and my weight I could control my life, become perfect. I simply have to remind myself that this is an illusion. Anorexia did not give me control, it controlled me. I was its puppet. It is for this reason that I often compare my experiences with Anorexia to demonic posession. But now I think my experiences with Anorexia are more like the experiences one has with a shitty ex. That ex might have made you feel terrible, controlled you, made you feel horrible. But once you break up with them and free yourself from them, you still have moments of weakness and loneliness and all you can think of is the times they made you feel beautiful. Anorexia is my shitty ex. And although I sometimes miss my shitty ex because of the fake happy memories in my head, I am now living my best post breakup life.