There is so much shame attached to disordered eating. So often I don’t want to go outside. I don’t want you to see me, I don’t want you to talk about me, to think about me, to comment on me. My way of dealing with the shame is talking about it, but all that does is getting in front of the conversation. The shame is still there. It’s big and ugly and it eats me up.
The shame is about loss of control, about not being able to stop myself from acting on my impulses. The shame is about not being able to keep up the image. About yo-yo-ing, about being all the things society looks down upon.
I am so ashamed.
It hurts to admit to it. I am ashamed of admitting to my shame.Read More