Evidence

Part of my recovery has been to finally go to the doctor, get a real physical and put my entire health back on track.  After blood work and a significant bone density test to check for osteoporosis (something many people with EDs have) I have been receiving what is a clean bill of health. The numbers are all just normal.

 

I should be thrilled and relieved that my body has sustained the bad things I've done to it.  So why didn’t it feel that way?  Seeing that everything is fine physically is just another way of being told "no, I'm fine".  I'm healthy, so nothing must be wrong”.  If there are no physical symptoms of my struggles, then what?  Is this really all in my head?  How can I prove this struggle when it’s not showing, but I still hurt so much inside?  How can these tests say I am normal when I feel so far from that?

 

It's hard not to see good health results as reaffirmation of however I treated my body was ok.  I convinced myself for years I was just being super healthy. And if the numbers add up, was I right?

 

This is still part of the struggle, I see.  I've made many strides forward and am very close to being possibly fully recovered, but I have a lot of work to do.  Wishing it showed more evidence of being sick is convincing that this journey was real and that it’s worth it.  It's hard to convince myself my struggles and emotions are real when it's not evident to the eye or even health care professionals.  It's just another way to be told I don't need help, I am fine.

 

When I spoke to my therapist about this, we discussed all the inner issues around us for some time.  And then she said something that just blew my mind:

 

“People get into car accidents, and sometimes they come out of it unscathed.  Not even a scratch or bruise or anything to show on their bodies they were in the accident except the car.  Or maybe someone fell down an icy step and hurt themselves, but there are no cuts or scrapes.  And yet, all these events still happened.  The event is in their memory and they will tell it like it is.  And others will believe it, because what’s not to believe?”

 

In relation to me, I did have an eating disorder all this time.  And maybe I still do a little bit.  I have scars you can’t see, tears that have been swept away and thoughts that still creep into my brain every single day. When we think of eating disorders, we immediately go to the physical.  What does the person look like?  Are they skinny?  Bony?  Does their hair look thin?  Their skin looks pale?  We’ve come to recognize these physical markers as traits of someone with an eating disorder.  We look at cancer patients as people with bald heads and light eyebrows, but what about the patient who doesn’t lose their hair?  In fact, I know of such person where chemotherapy didn’t have all those unattractive side effects after the first round of chemo.  But the fact was, he still had cancer.

There are so many like me who don’t show the signs, who craftily hide the disorder because at the time, it’s our comfort zone, our crutch.  An embarrassing one at that and we don’t want to share with those who won’t get it.  No one can look at us and ask if we need help – and that’s what makes not only this part of EDs so dangerous, but so lonely and hurtful.  It’s hard to explain what I am like with my ED when I can’t show the data.  It’s sort of like how do you know what my house is like without actually seeing it?  You don’t – but you know I have a house, and that it’s a log home with a loft, situated in some woods.  It exists and I know what it feels and smells like when I walk through the front door, even if you don’t.

 

No one will understand what my ED is like, even those with other EDs.  All our experiences, while so similar, are unique to us, which makes it not only hard to describe, but separate from as well.  For now, all I can do is tell my story, trust people will believe it without the evidence and most importantly become the person without the ED who celebrates not showing the hurt.