Stomach the Lie

For years, I couldn’t go to sleep unless I felt empty.

I would fast for hours and pushed myself each week to go longer without food.

My mom tried to stop me once.

She was so mad and desperate and said, “I’m not going to eat until you eat!”

I sat at the kitchen table feeling so helpless and angry.

I watched her add each ingredient to the pan and had my first bulimic thought.

“If it could be added then it can be taken away.”

“She could make me eat but she couldn’t make me keep it down.”

She thought she cured me and I thought I found a solution.

Anorexia was too stubborn for her liking but bulimia could be hidden from her view.

For years we’ve lived with this comforting lie.

I ate enough to please her and on days when I couldn’t stomach the lie. I just sat at the kitchen table, furiously thinking of other ways to get rid of it.

It’s in the tip of my tongue; a silent protest.

A voice that I know will never materialize because I know that she’ll blame herself again.

There are pieces of me, words and thoughts, that I hold back.

Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, they seep out:

“I’m struggling these days…….”

You need me to be better, and try to fix things:

Just eat with your intuition.
(My intuition tells me less is more.)

Eat more smaller meals.
(I can’t, I’ve lost my appetite and it hurts to eat.)

You’re not fat!
(You’re right, I’m not fat, I am not skinny, I must be obese!)

Just stop thinking this way! Why are you doing this? (Because I don’t control this. It can’t be fixed with a phrase or with your guilt trip. I just need you to listen)

*****

We are working on talking and listening during meal time more. Sometimes it’s quiet and tense and other times I just eat and listen.