Unforeseen Consequences

"If I had known then what I know now..."  Yeah. 

I have been to the doctor more in the last five months than I think I ever have.  I have had more blood taken than I thought was humanly possible.  The results?  Not so good.  I've known for awhile that my heart isn't so healthy.  Now, apparently, my kidneys and liver are sick too.  I don't know yet exactly what I'm facing, but I do know that my kidneys are not functioning properly, and that my liver is showing signs of distress.

I am so, so frustrated.  I have been loyally following my (colossal) meal plan since I've been home from my last treatment.  I even bought and faithfully imbibe, twice a day, a medical-grade weight gain supplement that would make most people gag at the first smell.  I do it because I vowed that I will beat my disease come hell or high water.  What is maddening is that despite my best efforts, my body is still in pieces.

Fourteen years ago, when the thought, "I'll just lose weight, that will make everything better," occurred to me, I KNEW it was the answer I'd been looking for.  A decade and a half of coming precariously close to killing myself proved one thing: eating disorders are lying, manipulative, deceitful mother fuckers, and they bring nothing but devastation and misery.  I understand that now.  There's no doubt in my mind.

The trouble is, the damage has been done.  My body, previously healthy and resilient, is now beaten down and defenseless.  I am doing everything in my power to rehabilitate it, but it seems to be too little too late.  I've said it before in this blog, and I'm sure I'll say it again: anorexia and bulimia KILL.  My cardiologist pointed out that Karen Carpenter - perhaps the most famous casualty of an eating disorder - died AFTER she had begun the recovery process.  That's the reality, my friends.  Skipping meals, taking diet pills, throwing up once in awhile... it can all seem so innocent, until it's not anymore.  One day you may wake up wanting nothing more than to live a long, healthy life, only to find out that your body has been damaged beyond repair.

I'm not giving up.  I will continue fighting every day I am blessed to walk this earth.  I fight not only for my own survival, but for the healing of the millions of men, women and children who battle this illness in secret and in desperation.  Please help me, friends.  Get the word out.  Tell your stories, tell MY story, do what you need to do to raise the awareness necessary to stamp down this disease once and for all.  It's never too late.  Not for me, not for you, and not for the masses.