Bottom line: gain, or go to a treatment program. It’s an ultimatum, not a joke.
I’m not flirting with changing. I want to and will. I swear I am consuming more than I ever have in my entire life. I eat. Even though the other thoughts torment me. I fight the compulsions. If I try really hard (and the teacher is not too distracting), I can get to a place, so deep inside myself and my yoga, that she can’t find me. I’m safe there. I can look into myself in the mirror and share love/energy with the room. That’s part of the reason I love this practice so intensely.
I eat. I feel love- for EVERY person in the room. Those were goals. BIG ones. That I am achieving… With fairly decent regularity. Quick, someone tell the teenie yogini “good job” acknowledge her effort, before demanding more.
“Just eat.” Is the most terrifying think you could tell an overachiever with extremist tendencies and major food issues.
I hate the way anorexia sounds inside my head. She is cruel and demanding, manipulative, strong, demeaning… And so much more.
I hate the alternative more.
Right now, people look at me and see a tiny, passionate, dedicated, yogini. They share my practice, celebrate my achievements and find strength inside of themselves to continue practicing.
I can’t become the fat person in the back of the room, puffing and sitting before the warmup ends.
“Just eat” opens the door to endless consumption, for an overachiever.
I need limits. I am committed and begging for help. “Just eat” is inadequate. I need boundaries. Rules. Direction. It must be perfectly anti-Ana. I spent the last 20ish years developing these compulsions. Anti-Ana must offer the same kind of protection or I can’t leave where I’m at.