by Liana Kaloussian
November 23rd, 2018 | Creative Writing
This may come as a surprise to my friends and family: I have an eating disorder. Some have noticed my weight loss and questioned me already; I’m a master at brushing uncomfortable questions off.
Yes, I have an eating disorder. I’m trying my best to recover.
There are days where my disordered thoughts are so loud. I feel like I can’t take it anymore.
"I’m not good enough". "I’m not skinny enough".
"I was never underweight".
Do I even have to recover? I don’t have an eating disorder, I’m just a wannabe. Not disciplined enough.
Not perfect enough.
My disordered brain tells me that I am not valid until I am in a hospital bed with a tube down my nose.
I must remember, most importantly, my brain lies and deceives.
I am valid enough.
I am enough.
I am sick enough.
I am sick:
I do have an eating disorder
and I deserve to get help just as much as anybody.
For ages, I have felt that since I was not on my deathbed I did not deserve help. I do deserve help. You deserve help no matter how bad you are.