Those are the words I have most regretted saying to myself: I just want to lose five pounds. I don't think one phrase could have changed my life more. I have spend endless hours in therapy analyzing why I wanted to lose those five pounds.
First I was told that I was vain. Mmm-hmmm. From a science major who doesn't wear makeup. Who chopped her hair off because braiding it in the morning was too much of a hassle.
Second I was told that I was getting revenge upon my mom for any number of things in my childhood, the worst of which was that she loved me too much. Do my mom and I have issues? Yep. And so do every other mother and daughter on the face of this earth. Yet the problem remains: if the anorexia was my way of paying my mom back for something, why did all the pain I caused her still render so freaking much guilt that some days I don't know if I can stand i.
Third I was told that those five pounds were a means of control. I am, admittedly, a control freak. I like things done my way. So I usually just do them myself, rather than have to put up with someone else's slip-shod manner. But weight? Yes I could control my weight, but that wasn't quite it.
There are even more theories, several told to me in a medical ward by a random psychiatrist sitting at the foot of my bed who had known me for all of five minutes. Let's just say it was to his benefit I was a control freak because otherwise I may have bit his head off. Oh, wait- anorexics aren't supposed to eat meat. Darn... Lucky man, him.
I can't explain anymore what triggered the eating disorder, what on earth I was thinking. I thought that losing five pounds would make me happy. I didn't know that eating salad all day wasn't that healthy for an active young college student. I didn't know that there was such a thing as too much exercise. And then I found myself in a hole from which I couldn't escape.
I have spent so long on the "why." I don't know anymore that there is a why to the anorexia. It has simply become a biological process that takes on a life of its own. I am taking my life back from it, and I want to look towards the future, towards the Carrie I might become, rather than the Carrie who initially fell victim to AN.
Oh yeah, the LAST five pounds. I think you hit it when you said 'It has simply become a biological process that takes on a life of its own.' It started out as one thing, but became another. And at this point it might not matter why. Different people, I'm sure, have different Whys. Thanks for sharing your story.