ED, I hate you. But I love you at the same time, and struggle to give you up.
You tell me I am not good enough, that I am fat and ugly, that no one will ever love me. You lie to me, isolate me from my friends and family, and tell me that only you can help me. You distract me from facing problems, and tell me that you are my solution. You have cheated me of a life lived unrestrained, unrestricted, and told me that if I can just achieve x,y,z... THEN I will be truly happy.
Yet you have been there in times when it seemed no one else was. You comforted me when I felt so alone and lost. You helped me cope through difficult circumstances. And because of that I struggle to let you go. You served a purpose, even if the results have been destructive. Without you, there's no telling where I would be now. Yes, even in your destructive, soul-crushing wake, I know somehow that I survived in part thanks to you.
The thing is, you no longer have a place. You no longer serve any purpose in my life except to control, taunt, and destroy me. And as I start to let you go, you cling to me even tighter. You tell me how much I need you in order to still have control. But I am choosing to let you go... one day at a time, one meal at a time, sometimes even one hour at a time. So, ED, today I am choosing recovery over you.
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