ED Loves Ruining My Birthday

Ghosts of Birthdays’ past – varying degrees of restrictive eating were present from age 18 to 31.

Happy 32nd to me.

So…several of my birthdays have been blighted by this illness. In fact, the clearest memories I have relate to my ED and how much a part of my life it was at the time. How thin I was, how I looked in my outfit, whatever dangerous measures I was taking to keep my weight down at the time. This year was no exception. I may be attempting to recover but that doesn’t mean the war in my head isn’t raging on.

Fourteen years of this bullshit; every birthday a harsh reminder of the fact that I was still consumed by this illness. I’m not the high maintenance type. At all. In fact, I enjoy bragging about my ability to get ready in twenty minutes or less. If only this were still the case. My Body Dysmorphia is the worst it has ever been. Three hours in front of the mirror and I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house. My boyfriend had made dinner plans for us yet in my mind I was too hideous for people to lay their eyes upon. I couldn’t even celebrate getting older with the one person who loves me unconditionally. On second thought, this post should be titled ‘Things I Have Allowed My ED to Suck the Joy Out of.’

This year, I’ll be celebrating my birthday, not bemoaning the size of my thighs. Recovery is the best present I can give to myself.

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