No, I’m Not Okay

You know when someone asks how you’re doing and you feel obligated to just say ‘I’m good, how are you?”. Why is that? Why do we feel obligated to always reply with something positive? It’s like we’ve lost touch with one another and asking how someone is doing is more of a formality rather than a genuine question. And that’s where you learn to master the fake smile, the fake enthusiasm, and the fake act that you’re ‘good’ when you’re really struggling.

I feel like there’s a constant pressure for all of us to always be positive. Showing that you’re struggling shows you’re weak, right? How dare you admit that you’re not okay when someone was just asking as a formality and not looking a real answer. You’re just throwing a pity party for yourself and looking for attention when you admit that you need help. And that was my biggest fear when faced with the confrontation that I have an eating disorder. But not anymore.

So, how am I?

Honestly? Recovery is really fucking hard. Some days I wake up, take my anti-depressants and multivitamins, I make breakfast, and go about my day. But most days? Most days it takes a while to get out of bed. Why are you hungry already? Why did you sleep in instead of working out? You should probably just skip breakfast and drink coffee to get rid of your appetite. You have snacks in the pantry that might tempt you, just dump them in the garbage. Obviously no carbs or fats today since you didn’t work out. Remember, the more you restrict and limit your food and max out on working out, the more in control of your life you are. The more strength you have. You don’t know anyone else with this discipline, this sets you apart. You don’t need anyone else, Nikki, you have me, your eating disorder, to make you feel better. You won’t have to feel any bad feelings with me, I will numb everything out for you. You would be nothing without me, Nikki, don’t forget that.

These are the thoughts that go through my head on almost a daily basis. The difference between where I am now and where I was 8 months ago? I can recognize that the voice in my head is not my own. It’s Ed, a name that we give my Anorexia to disengage and breakup with. Now, I can tell Ed to shut up. Now, I can tell Ed that he’s wrong. But sometimes, as much as I know that Ed is wrong and that I shouldn’t be listening, it doesn’t work. Yes, I’m 8 months into recovery, but I have taken steps backwards. It’s not a linear road to recovery and there is not going to be one day where I wake up and I’m like “WOOO FULLY RECOVERED!!”. As nice as that sounds, that’s not how this works.

Recovery doesn’t define me, but it is a part of me.

I’ve accepted that I’m in the middle of the toughest journey in my life. That recovery is leading me to a life that I can be free. A life where I’m not trapped by my thoughts. Where I’m not trapped by food or exercise. A life where I’m simply just myself. But the thing is, I’ve hit a point in my recovery that’s similar to when I first started. It’s time to take another leap of faith, but I’m scared. I’m scared to fully trust this process and let go of the eating disorder fully. My therapist describes it as if I’m standing on a crumbling block. I can either leap forward to the next block, or I can leap backwards to the previous block. Do I want to take steps backward in my recovery? Obviously not. I wish I could just keep pushing forward without hesitation or questions. But you have to understand, I’ve struggled with my identity for a majority of my life. How do I be me when I don’t know who I am without my disordered perceptions and behaviors?

“You’re so skinny! How can you eat like shit and look like that?!”

*I want to preface this by saying that there will inevitably be a separate post about my limited palate & my struggles with nutrition*

It feels like my whole life has been people commenting on my size. How I’m lucky to be blessed with a fast metabolism. I’m lucky that I can eat whatever I want and not get fat. I’m so cute and little. Yeah, when I grew boobs in Italy it was cool to show that cleavage off, but why did I feel so obligated to do that? Why did I have to look for another part of my body to define me? It’s what I’ve known. Our society is so obsessed with looks and fitness and diet culture, that the only way I felt accepted was to leverage some piece of my body to gain attention. And that is so insanely fucked up. I know that I’m incredibly smart. I have a quirky, outgoing personality. My heart is so big and I care so deeply about everyone in my life that it’s hard to find time to care that deeply about myself. So why was I not showing these traits off? Why did I allow myself to hide behind the body image that I thought identified me? Is it because the second I started capitalizing on the 2 hour workouts and salad diet that I got compliments and attention for looking fit? Is it because I realized I loved how powerful it made me feel? That I could only feel power and adrenaline and then nothing at all? Well I’ll let you know when I find that answer because it’s something I’m still figuring out myself. I know it goes back to my childhood (because doesn’t it all?), but it’s been a real mindfuck trying to find one simple answer. Because there isn’t one.

So no, I’m not okay. But I will be.

Yeah life is hard. It has its ups and downs and all of the moments in between. But hey, that’s better than nothing at all. That numbness I used to only feel? I wasn’t living. I was breathing, but I wasn’t living. And now? Now I’m living with the consequences of my actions. It’s been hard to forgive myself for putting my body and mind through the torture that I did. For missing out on so much throughout my life because I was too afraid to admit that I needed help. That I struggled with anxiety and depression. That I didn’t know how to communicate my feelings or thoughts. I was afraid to be open and I was afraid to be me because I didn’t want to be rejected by society. But you know what? Fuck society. Fuck the pressure that it puts on us to fit into some small box that it’s created for us. I’m ready to start living my life for me. I’m done living for society and these twisted misconceptions I have about how I’m viewed by others. It’s time to let people in. To be vulnerable and admit when I’m not okay. To unapologetically explore who I am, who I want to be, explore the passions that I have, to discover new passions, and to accept the inevitable challenges that are going to come with exploring this new woman that I’m becoming. Because life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies, remember?