*TW – eating disorder*
I don’t have an eating disorder, I just have issues with food. I don’t have an eating disorder because nobody has ever diagnosed one.
It was all going so well. Over the Easter holidays K has been cooking and baking and I’ve eaten something every day – often a whole meal. K is a good cook and has produced some lovely food, and I’ve been rustling up batches of muffins. It wasn’t a concious decision, it just happened and I let it. And it was going ok.
Until this morning.
I got up, showered, headed downstairs for a brew before I wake K up. Without realising it, I put an extra sugar in my tea. Sitting drinking it, I knew that I won’t be eating today. It wasn’t a concious decision, I just knew. And I know I won’t be eating tomorrow either. And so on. Until I do the same in reverse – one less sugar and knowledge it is ok to eat.
Food is a complex system of rewards and punishments, and a way to stay in control. I have never had a healthy relationship with food. Undoing so many years of bad habits takes time, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. I just accept that some part of me, somewhere, has decided it’s time to stop eating. Because this isn’t my decision, not this time. It’s ok, I’m not skinny so I can get away with it, slip below the radar and carry on as normal.
So I do what I always do – stick an extra sugar in my drink and cross my fingers.