TW: eating disorders
Every time I think about my eating disorder, I always focus on the amount of time I spend on it. The time spent on counting calories, measuring out portions, thinking about the next meal. It makes me wonder about who I would be if I had spent that time doing something different. Something worth it.
Maybe if I wasn't so focused on food then I would be a better student. All of those long days at school on an empty stomach were spent doodling on paper and daydreaming. Not because I wasn’t interested In the agenda for the day, but because I couldn't see straight when I looked at the board. My thoughts were loud, making sure I remembered I wasn’t allowed to eat yet, instead of the notes I was writing. Maybe if I didn’t think about how I looked sitting at a desk all day I would know calculus and be able to multiply at the drop of a hat. Maybe if I had eaten my meals more regularly I would remember what we talked about in world history. Maybe if I wasn’t worried about my esophaguses rupturing I would’ve paid better attention in Spanish class and would understand subjunctives. I can only imagine the student that I could’ve been if I just payed a little more attention.
Maybe if I wasn’t so focused on food then I would be a better friend. My heart drops every time I decline an invitation to a party or a sleepover because I know that I should go, but then they would smell the bile on my breath. I don’t want to have to say no again because I binged so badly that my chest became heavy and my stomach started to hurt. Maybe if I allowed myself to nourish my body I wouldn't push away my friends. Maybe if I didn’t punish myself for every little decision I made I would be able to enjoy the company of others. Maybe if I loved myself a little more, I wouldn’t be so jealous of the people I surround myself with. I can’t wait for the day that I stop comparing myself to the people I love the most.
Maybe if I wasn’t so focused on food then I would be a better daughter. I can recall most of the times where I’ve lashed out on my parents when they’ve said something or gave me something just because I was nutrient deprived. Seeing the pain in their eyes when I start to cry cause I ate more than I wanted to makes my heart break. Maybe if I didn't need to weigh out everything I ate I would be able to enjoy family dinners. Maybe if I just ate a sufficient amount of food I wouldn't get frustrated at the sound my mom’s voice. Maybe if I just accepted that I am perfectly fine as I am, my parents wouldn’t talk about how much my pain hurts them behind my back. I don't want to continue to drag my parents down with me anymore.
My mind floods with hypothetical situations daily. Constantly pondering what could’ve been. Fun fact, it doesn’t help to focus on the what ifs. I’ve wasted so much time on wondering who I would be if I was okay with myself, instead of actually working to make myself okay. I want to stop wasting time and letting myself get caught up in all of the ‘maybes’, and one day I will.