Sometimes I get really, really scared. About my health. About the ways I've damaged it. About the possibility that, because of years of self-abuse, I will die young.
My resting heartrate is 54 bpm. My blood pressure hangs out around 90/60. My hands and feet are freezing when it's 100 degrees outside. My teeth are sensitive to hot and cold. I'm tired all the time. My hormones are wacky. I have headaches almost every day. My digestion hasn't been normal in years.
All this, and I'm in my seventh year of recovery.
So yes, I get really, really scared. What if I came this far, worked this hard, and the eating disorder STILL wins?
Monday, September 20, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
I Had No Right
I have a friend who is very, very sick. Breast cancer. She's 35. Married with two young kids. She's fighting harder than I've ever seen anyone fight, but it's an uphill battle.
I think about her often. I consider how something insidious invaded her body, barged in uninvited and left chaos in its wake. I think about her body "then" - strong, healthy, exactly the way a young woman's body should be. I think about her body "now" - delicate, painful, nothing that someone her - anybody's - age should be. I think about what her husband, her children, her parents, her siblings are facing.
I also think about my years of self-imposed sickness. Trips to the hospital, medical bills, worried family and friends. And I can't help but think, "I had no right to do that. Not to my body, not to my loved ones."
Health is precious. That's another thing no one tells you when you're toying with an eating disorder, or if they do tell you, you just don't appreciate. Health is a blessing, it is fragile, it is not guarunteed. It is to be treasured, respected. Health is not to be taken for granted, not to be trampled on, not to be destroyed in the name of "thin" or anything else.
I had no right.
I think about her often. I consider how something insidious invaded her body, barged in uninvited and left chaos in its wake. I think about her body "then" - strong, healthy, exactly the way a young woman's body should be. I think about her body "now" - delicate, painful, nothing that someone her - anybody's - age should be. I think about what her husband, her children, her parents, her siblings are facing.
I also think about my years of self-imposed sickness. Trips to the hospital, medical bills, worried family and friends. And I can't help but think, "I had no right to do that. Not to my body, not to my loved ones."
Health is precious. That's another thing no one tells you when you're toying with an eating disorder, or if they do tell you, you just don't appreciate. Health is a blessing, it is fragile, it is not guarunteed. It is to be treasured, respected. Health is not to be taken for granted, not to be trampled on, not to be destroyed in the name of "thin" or anything else.
I had no right.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)