12 years ago I was diagnosed with an ED.
Since then my relationship with food and my body has been up and down. There have been times I think I'm completely better & I'll never be sick again, but there are other times it comes creeping back.
Like right now, since my dad died 2 months ago I can count the amount of meals I've eaten on one hand. My diet consists of fruit, protein bars, cereal or a low fat cheese toastie.
I make DD her dinner each night and tell her I'll eat when she's in bed.
I personally don't see it but people have made comments on my size that I'm too thin. I had an operation a couple of weeks ago on my neck (another issue) & the nurses picked up on my BMI and asked if I needed help.
I look in the mirror and I don't see it.
I have no energy, I struggle through each day, I want to sleep all the time. I hate food with a passion. I'm so depressed at the moment but mainly to do with an ongoing issue with a lump I have in my neck & still grieving my father.
My sister told me that I am selfish for having issues with food. Like it's some sort of choice. She said DD deserves better than an anorexic mother with a pain killer habit.
I stopped eating shortly before dad neared the end of his life (a brain tumour but died of sepsis which I blame myself for)
Me and my sister watched him die in pain.
I know I need to get better but I don't want to. I don't want to be bigger, I can't have thighs that touch. In the past if I could feel my thighs touch I would feel sick and anxious and disgusting.