Last night, I was tossing and turning over the thought of going to the gym in the morning.
I had it all planned out, that I was going to get a good night’s rest, and wake up for 5:30 to go to the gym because that was the only time I could go before class.
I told my mom and she said “whaaaaat? 5:30? you’re crazy girl” And so she was right, I am crazy. Crazy for being so fooled by the devil and his ways of making things look so good.
I was in bed by 9:00 pm last night, which meant I was going to have a very good sleep. Two hours went by and I was still awake. Tossing and turning, trying to find the comfiest position while also trying to shut off my brain.
Just go to sleep Sara. You’ll be fine in the morning, just get some rest. Why are you getting so anxious about being up early for the gym? – these are the thoughts constantly playing through my mind as I tried to fall asleep.
It’s now 1:00 a.m. Still up. Still thinking. Still intending to go to the gym.
It’s 2:00 a.m. I am tired, I am restless, and I am in no mood to eat, I just want to sleep. But, ED says just have some chocolate chip cookies that you have stashed in your drawer. Those will make you feel better.
Yeah right, I’m sure that eating cookies at 2:00 a.m is a great idea when I intend to be up in 3.5 hours.
Well, the next thing I know I’m on my bedroom floor eating cookies. 1, after, 2, after, 3, after, 4, I probably ate 10 cookies. I’m saying yes to Ed.
Okay, taking a sip of a water and going back to bed. 20 minutes later I’m standing in front of the fridge, eating my lunch for tomorrow. A sandwich, an apple, apple sauce, treat-sized chocolate covered m&m’s, and a treat-sized kit-kat. I’m saying yes to Ed.
What on earth is happening. Why am I eating at this time of night and why am I not sleeping and why is this not the first time this has happened and why do I have this stupid life sucking joy stealing eating disorder and why can’t I find the words to pray when all I can do is cry and feel guilty and feel ashamed and worthless and hopeless.
It’s 7:55 a.m. I have class at 8:00 a.m. I am not going, because I am running off of less than 3 hours of sleep, I am bloated beyond measures and truthfully, I just want to hide from the rest of the world.
I had a shower, made myself some breakfast, and headed for the couch. Now it’s 10:30 a.m and I’m back in the kitchen, making an english muffin + a bowl of cereal and chugging back water. Shamefully, chugging back water. I’m saying yes to Ed.
I was googling online how to make myself throw up, and it said lots of water. I stood over my toilet, waiting for something to happen. Until I looked over at the mirror and saw a little girl named Sara, who always cared about her weight and outer appearance and approval from others. And then I said “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” I kept saying His name over and over because I didn’t want to throw up. I DIDN’T WANT TO PUKE. ED wanted me to.
I’m saying no to Ed.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. That’s all it took for me to put down my glass of water. Put down the toothbrush. Put down the shame and the guilt.
I am not okay. I need help badly. I need lot’s of help. But I hope that to whoever is reading this knows the pain, the hurt, the utter crap that lies behind an eating disorder. It is not about the weight. It is bigger than that. I don’t know what it is for me but I am praying that I find out. I’m saying no to Ed.
Until next time,