When the Voice of My Eating Disorder Comes Back Inside My Brain

Even though I’ve been in recovery for a good amount of time, sometimes my eating disorder voice worms his way inside my brain. He tries to coax me into relapse, sings songs of restriction and weight loss and control. Sometimes, it almost seems tempting. I remember the compliments. I remember the attention. I remember playing the games and cheating the system. I remember feeling invincible.

Then I remember the tears. The tears over mashed potatoes, over bottles of Ensure, the tears at the DMV when I was too out of it from hunger to pass my permit test. I remember forcing myself go to the gym even though I could barely stand, reprimanding myself when I didn’t burn a certain number of calories on the elliptical, those 45 minutes a waste of time. I remember misery and depression.

When that voice sounds so promising and inviting, I remember how, now, I go out with my friends and get French fries and sing along to the radio at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. I remember laying in bed reading on a lazy Sunday morning when I could have been at the gym. I remember letting go of a number and letting go of weight loss. I remember freedom and spontaneity. I remember life.

Every time the voice comes back, I choose to live, and there is no choice I’d rather make.

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