"I ate a late lunch." "I'm not feeling very well." "I had a friend over, and she ate all the ice cream." "I don't know why the bathroom smells funny; maybe the plumbing isn't working right."
How many lies have you told in the name of your eating disorder? I lost count of mine about 10 years ago. I have lied to so many people about so many things for so many years. I have to add, I'm a terrible liar. I have an overactive conscience. Even "little white lies" make me queasy. But I would tell anybody anything to protect my disease. Even as the words sting like bile when they come out of my mouth.
There's that saying, "The truth hurts." Maybe we need to acknowledge that for once. Lies protect our disease because our disease masks our feelings. The truth exposes our feelings, in all their raw, painful, ugly glory. It's no surprise that we'd do anything to make those feelings go away. But we have to realize that we're not helping ourselves at all. For every lie we tell, for every meal we skip, for every binge and every purge, we lose a little of ourselves.
Hold my hand, and we will tell the truth together. The truth is, life hurts sometimes. But if we're honest about it, we can help each other through it.
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