I think for me, ‘disordered’ eating has always been to some extent about control; a fairly common theme, I know.
It makes kind of logical sense in some ways. I dread the stereotypical ‘wanting to be in control of your body because of times when you haven’t’, though I do accept this theory. For me, I’ve been thinking more and more about exactly what it is I want to control: is it my weight, my appearance, my eating desires? Is it about wanting to see how far I can push myself, how much discipline and control I have over myself?
These were all things I used to think I wanted to be in control of. From a young age I learnt to control myself in so many ways and ‘controlling’ food helped me to continue this; which is something I felt I should do.
Suddenly though, I realise it is not just about these things. It is about controlling me. It’s about holding me back. Keeping the little battered me inside.
I feel so utterly branded by shame on the inside that I must hide myself; I must not have desires or be who I want to be.
It feels as though every part of my soul has been seared and scarred by shame and I darent share it with anyone for fear of repulsion. My eating disorder has cut over scar after scar of shame and kept me quiet, kept me hidden.