A few months ago I started college and that incurred understandable anxiety as I am in a new place with brand new people. As a result of that I noticed my anorexia began to flare up. My whole life I have issues with eating from being supersize to skeletal which I why it’s a crutch I constantly return to in times of stress.
However recently I changed my way of thinking about my body to try and combat this problem. If you really think about it, our bodies are incredible. We are born with everything we need to have an incredible life. Every time we get sick or injured the body automatically heals itself. It lets us know when we are tired, hungry and cold. Its main job in life is to protect us and yet for most of my life I have hated my body.
I have debased, denied and defiled my body for years. When I was younger I would force food into myself to ignore my problems. I stuffed the contours of my cheeks with carbs and calories to hide behind a large wobbly shield. For years I was overweight punishing my body denying it nutrition and exercise. I hated myself and therefore felt I should look the part. And yet my body did not fail me, it never stopped working and though my heart had to pump twice as hard for half as much it never let me down.
Years moved on and I began to hate my body more and more. I began to starve myself. I watched my stomach shrink and saw my bones protrude under translucent flesh. I heard my teeth click and my chest concave. I lost all the things I thought I had hated about myself and yet my opinions had not changed. Instead of despising fat rolls I cursed my ribs. My stomach was gone replaced by gurgles and groans that betrayed me. My eyes sunk and my hair fell from a head too large for its holder. Still I was disgusted by myself and I began to realise how I looked had nothing to do with how I felt.
People talk about defining moments in their lives, moments where they realise what they want and who they are. For some people every day is a definitive day and they are blessed with an abundance of epiphanies. I am not this kind of person and yet I have had a moment that I can never forget as it is the moment that saved my life.
It was about a year ago that I was at the height of my anorexia. I could go days without eating a proper meal and whenever I did they were quickly followed by trips to the bathroom. One night I decided to take a bath. I lowered my frail flimsy body into the boiling water and attempted to scrub the disgust off my beaten broken body. The steam swirled its way into my subconscious and trickled down my thoughts. I began to feel faint, lose feeling and slowly silently slipped underneath the water.
I woke quickly as my throat burned and my eyes stung and yet I didn’t move. My mind betrayed me as sinful thoughts seduced me. ‘Stay’, they whispered ‘life’s too long, too hard for you’. And in that moment I believed them. I was going to lie there and drift away from my pain and suffering.
However something miraculous occurred. My body, the one I had abused and abandoned forced me to live. My skeletal fingers clutched the porcelain coffin and heaved my wet weak body from the depths. My lungs sucked in deep breaths as my chest quivered and shook. I was alive. I lay my pounding head on porcelain tiles and watched the tears trickle onto the floor. It was that moment I realised my body was there to help me not hurt me. I had survived on instinct not intellect.
My body was never the problem, in fact it is the solution. It is what supports me and allows me to live. I mistreated my body for years and it never let me down. If anyone had spoken to me the way I did to myself I would have been appalled. So why is it acceptable for me to talk to myself that way?
I am learning to love my body, to value strength over skin. So many people these days are obsessed with finding the perfect body. The search is over for me. I have found it. It’s the one I was given.
The perfect body protects you and loves you too. Love it back.
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