Dear Anna... A letter to the bitch that ruined my life...

It seems as though I always thought that you were a part of me. That you were my voice, and that your thoughts, feelings and opinions were mine. Perhaps this is because you look, sound and feel exactly like me, and in many ways you are me. When I see you in my head, you appear as a taller, thinner more beautiful version of myself. You are beautiful, strong, and in the habit of getting whatever you want.

            It is truly ironic that you are so beautiful, because I know now how ugly you really are on the inside. Revenge. Payback. Anger. The all or nothing attitude. All those expectations you had for me. You made me not want anything for myself. You erased all my goals, severed all my relationships with the people I loved and made me feel alone, isolated, frustrated, and scared. You tricked me into thinking that recovery would not be worth it. That if I recovered my parents would ignore me again. I would have to go to parties again and interact with people. I did not need friends, and I did not need to be a part of a world where no one understood me and everything and everyone irritated me.

            For the past year, I have been resisting you and this has made it easier to see through all the lies you keep feeding me. It is easier now to see your ugliness. You are a siren, tempting me with your beauty and promise of love, friendship, comfort and satisfaction. These are all things that you initially gave me, but the more I wanted, the higher price I had to pay.

            Initially, I thought that if I listened to you, if I got thinner, I would get it all. I would have friends, get good grades at school, and be the best version of myself possible. If I just lost another pound, I’d fit into that perfect prom dress. If I lost another, I would look amazing and confident as I crossed the stage to get my diploma. A few more pounds, and I could run across the beach in my swimsuit without worrying about looking fat. Just a few more, and getting ready for university would be so much easier. After all, you do save time not changing 10 times each morning trying to find an outfit you feel comfortable in.

            Eventually, the price to pay got really high. The line between what I wanted and what you wanted me to want for myself was blurred. Then one day, when I was in so much pain that I could hardly bear to be alive anymore, I realized that it was just not worth it anymore. I realized that all this time I was just existing, rather than really living my life. This was no way to live and I decided to get help.

            These past 6 weeks have been some of the most life-changing, challenging, and frustrating ones I have ever had to go through. Yet, every tear, every urge that you beat me up for not turning into a symptom, is worth how amazing I feel right now. You used to make me thing that strength was staying days being hungry, or running miles on an injured foot. In the past six weeks, I have realized that yes, that was brave and courageous, yet, not exercising when every fibre of my body is craving that high I get from exercise, is just as, in fact, more courageous than giving into those urges.

            As I am slowly breaking away from the strong hold you had on me, I have so much more clarity on why I ended up being with you in the first place. You took on the controlling, methodical and strict role my parents had on me as a child. When my parents gave up that role, you picked up the pieces. I was scared to make my own decisions and of growing up, which is why I let you make all my decisions for me. You prevented me from getting an education, finding meaningful relationships, and growing into the person, I am supposed to be.

            I do not know if what you offered me is what I am meant to be, or if there is something else out there. I just know that I’m trying an experiment right now. I am taking some time off from you. I’m giving the small, weak, voice in my head that I know is truly my voice, a chance to be heard. This is my time to shine. This is my time to speak and to be heard. This time I am giving myself a chance. As I write this, I can feel you sneering at me, telling me that I will hate who I am without you. Maybe I will, or maybe not. I just know that for right now, in this moment, not being in hungry and not having every bone in my body ache is good enough.

            I am scared to let go of you. I am terrified about going forward in life without you holding my hand. I am scared to walk the path I am meant to walk alone. My parents, friends, and the staff here in the program have taken your place. Eventually, I know that I might have to do this by myself, that I will always want to turn back and come to you again for comfort. I hope that by then, I will be strong enough to not fall back into your trap.

            I have spent too much of my life counting calories, instead of counting my blessings. I am tired of that way of living and I want a new life for myself. Even though I am scared, I want to give myself a chance. I never take the easy way out and I know that one day things will get better. Life is not always going to be this hard and its time I lived my life the way I want to live it. I am worth the fight. I deserve food and I deserve to eat without feeling guilt or shame. I deserve to be healthy. I deserve to be happy. I deserve a chance to live.