You know what would make recovery so much easier? If my parents would just lay off. I know they’re worried about me, but I am sick of them pointing out every little thing that I could improve on. For example, I drink liquids with a spoon (yes, I know that’s pretty weird). It’s some damn habit I picked up while I was immersed with a bunch of other anorexics at treatment. Whenever I do it, my parents blow a gasket. They start screaming and yelling. I mean, if you didn’t know why they were acting like a bunch of irate lunatics, you’d think the world was about to end! Why can’t they just praise me for the things I have accomplished in my recovery (like eating with family, consuming more calories, or attempting to spend more time with them), and let me tackle the rest of my harmless ED habits on my own time?
The more they nag me and cut me down for everything I do, the more I realize I am not trying to get better for myself. Instead, I am trying to get better for them just so the constant battles will finally cease. I know I should want recovery for myself, but I don’t think I personally long for it. Sure, I fully realize how much my eating disorder has destroyed my life, but how can I possibly live without it? If I let it go, I may lose control over how much I eat and just become like every other member in my nit-picky family . . . .FAT. And as you well know, I would rather be burnt alive than become some butterball.