When I was first diagnosed my mother was very upset about the whole thing. She sat in the car and cried then took me out to lunch. After that I went on vacation to my grandparents’ house and talked to my Omi about it.
“You don’t look that skinny,” she said when she found out.
From that moment on I never believed that I had an eating disorder. No matter how obvious the signs were it wasn’t true. I wasn’t that skinny. In fact, I could lose some more weight! Omi had said I wasn’t that skinny which means I can lose more weight and it’ll be okay.
I knew that wasn’t true, but that part of my mind wasn’t really paying attention or was very strong. Eventually, whether I believed it or not, I had to gain weight and get healthy again. Sometimes I still don’t believe I actually have an eating disorder and that people are just crazy thinking I ever had one. I know this isn’t true. I know I have an eating disorder. I still freak out if I go over 1200 calories a day even though I need to because of my exercise. I go crazy if I don’t exercise, my automatic thought being I’m going to gain a million pounds and end up one of the rest of the American population that is overweight and die young because of all of the crap you can get just by being overweight. I know that missing one day won’t do that, but the voice in my head hasn’t seemed to figure that out yet. Even though I never looked emaciated I still have an eating disorder, and I supposed I should consider myself lucky not getting that malnourished. I did lose my period. I never developed lanugo. I am absolutely terrified of gaining weight. I think I’m afraid of that more than I’m afraid of giant spiders. So yes, I do have an eating disorder, even though I may not believe it sometimes.
I do have a reminder, though. Every time I bring up something related to my transition into a healthier lifestyle my mom looks at me and says, “Do you think you’re slipping?” And when I tell her no she doesn’t believe me and grills me even more. I haven’t lost weight, but I am under where she wants me to be. She has never understood my eating disorder, which I understand because it is scary. I can’t imagine having to deal with a child having an eating disorder. I would probably shy away from the whole thing, too, but even so, she is my mom and you would think she would make a little bit of an effort to understand it. I don’t like talking to her about food or exercise. I have said it before and I will say it again, my boyfriend has been the one and only person that has helped me through this and I can’t be more grateful for his help.
For a lot of people their family can be their biggest support, for me not so much, and I am okay with that because even though it is annoying that my mom won’t try to understand what I’m going through, I still have had a wonderful man in my life to help me through all of this.