Insensitive. Stupid. Rude. Selfish. Assholes. Ignorant. Cocky.
Part of having panic disorder/anxiety disorder/anorexia is that I am a very empathetic human being. I know this. But I am just baffled at how people can be. Like blows my mind that someone would not consider severity and choice of words.
Today I met up with my second mother for breakfast. We were catching up. She proceeded to ask me what I’m doing. I chose to disclose. I told her I am going to therapy 3 days a week. Ok pause. Clue #1 that something must be seriously wrong with me if I am going that frequently. Continue. She responds, are you sure anorexia? Not bulimia?
?!?!?!? Are you shitting me?! I just don’t understand what in anyone’s right mind would tell them that that comment is EVER ok to say. Like no, I choose to say anorexia after disclosing I am in therapy 3 times a week because why not lie there?!??! Seriously?!
And I know this will come out horrible. I do not intend to ever offend anyone and their struggles. But to me, the thought of me being bulimic makes me want to starve more. I love that I have anorexia and not bulimia. I get offended when people think I am bulimic–so much so it actually is triggering.
Continue. She then proceeds to comment about my stated weight loss: are you sure you’ve lost that much weight? I don’t ever remember you being 65lbs heavy than you are now… Or heavier than you are now.
Holy. Shiitake. Mushrooms.
I thought it was common knowledge to the world to never tell someone who has just told you they have an eating disorder that they look fat.
Bitch pulled the trigger on that gun and it fired straight into my head; lodging those bullets deep in that will take several therapy sessions to remove. And like any good bullet wound, there will be a very visible scar.
Oh PS. My birthday is in exactly a week. As usual, while I go over the top to remember everyone else’s and do countdowns, mine is neglected. Cindy is focused on her baby shows this weekend. Yup because I get to share my birthday week with someone’s baby shower who isn’t due until August… And I am selfish for being upset by this. And that she’s absorbed on that and forgotten my birthday.
Cherry tells me I am allowed to have feelings. Mine are always strong around my birthday.
On top of this nice big piece of cake? Cherry is out of town next week and it is my first day of DBT group [missed the first class this week for prescheduled training course]. So I still have some support. But holy cow idk how I will survive my birthday week, birthday panic, birthday depression, and process without relapsing, with Cherry gone and no backup.
Struggles struggles struggles.
Thanks to those bullets waking up Ed, his voice is coming in loud and clear and much earlier than I thought.