Whenever I’m faced with a particularly difficulty thought or feeling, I tend to deflect by shifting my focus to my eating disorder.
Today I was struggling with connecting to my therapist. I wanted it so badly, but it seems to happen with such ease lately that I get overwhelmed. It’s scary. So although I felt a tremendous pull towards her, I held myself at arm’s length. I had a fairly clear idea of what I wanted to talk about with her, but I found myself veering further and further off course.
I had been thinking a lot about her upcoming vacation.
I’d also been thinking about how much I will miss her and how I wish she would let me hug her before the break. But I know she will say no and I can’t bear that kind of rejection.
So I say nothing and I just sit and think of how much I physically yearn for her.
Which morphs into thoughts about how fat, worthless, and horrible I am.
So then I’m sitting there obsessing over food and body size, rather than dealing with the pain of longing and grief.
I guess I’m still feeling my feelings on some level, but I’m also kinda not. I want to beat this ED voice. I want to figure out how to regulate myself around food. I want to feel worthy for something other than the ability to deprive myself of basic needs.
But that feels far too close to the stuff that hurts so much it feels like dying.
So I talk about food and obsess about weight.
And the little girl who desperately needs a cuddle gets stuffed further and further into the darkness.