Fuck you AN
I used to be one of those girls that would turn to one familiar phrase during difficult moments in my recovery:
‘Fuck you anorexia’…
The phrase became an impulse reaction when I could hear AN’s voice whispering in my ear about how I ‘didn’t really want to eat that’ or ‘didn’t actually want to recover.’ It morphed itself into one of those loop recordings, constantly echoing in my head, as if the incessant playback of words would actually quiet the noise of my eating disorder.
It became my autopilot, and I thought that it was the best, most positive mantra for my recovery; little did I know that one day, that perspective would change.
My therapist and I were discussing coping mechanisms and mantras to use in moments of frustration – guess what the first one out of my mouth was?
Yep. ‘Fuck you anorexia…’
I found it surprising that she replied with the question: ‘Why so harsh?’
I responded, explaining that I didn’t see it as harsh… I saw it as empowering – as me using my recovery voice.
Then she asked me this: ‘What about that part of you that used your AN as a coping mechanism? What does that phrase say to it?’
She went on to remind me of the different parts of myself (here are a few -)
– the ‘true self’ that wants recovery
– the perfectionist/self-critic (must be good enough)
– the adult/caregiver (feels responsible for everyone else, denying the ‘true self’ care and love’
– the child (totally lost & unsure. We had established as the part that most likely found AN useful for coping)
– the ‘teenager’ (wants recovery, but afraid to step on toes by using her own voice – afraid of failure)
Once again, my therapist and I looked back at my days in elementary school. Those days (for the most part) were filled with verbal, emotional and physical forms of bullying. In that time, I came to know coping skills such as detachment, isolation, and self-deprication. I learned to treat myself the way other people treated me. Obviously, if they were doing it so readily, it’s what I deserved right? There may have been a tiny part of myself that knew those kids were completely wrong, but after awhile, it became part of my life – it became impulsive and automatic to treat myself horribly. Even years later, moving to a completely different high school to study music (with absolutely NONE of my former schoolmates) failed to shake that outlook.
I had effectively become my own bully and there was no stopping it.
So back to that moment: sitting there with my therapist, I realized that that ‘inner-bully’ was still very much alive, and had turned a seemingly positive/self-motivating expression into one that was actually degrading.
Was anorexia a positive or effective coping strategy? No, but there was a part of me that used to feel safe with it, and despite the fact that I now knew differently, that ‘child’ part of me was still too fearful to let go of the ‘AN safety blanket’.
But would it ever really learn to let go if I kept punishing myself for grabbing on to something that I once felt served me?
The honest answer is no.
Since then, I’ve learned that the only way to truly face my recovery is with pure kindness, understanding and self-compassion. It’s not been easy, but I am slowly learning that what used to serve me no longer does. Yes, in hindsight, AN was a horrible coping skill, but that does not mean I was ‘wrong’ for just trying to cope.
Now, instead of saying ‘Fuck you anorexia,’ when I’m struggling, I simply turn to the scared parts of myself and say ‘It’s okay. You’re not alone and you don’t have to be. Trust yourself, and never let go of your hope for the future. Letting go is scary, but so is staying stuck. It’s okay to be afraid; it’s okay to acknowledge how difficult all of this is, but remember: ‘Difficult’ never means impossible.’
Just breathe.
By Laura R.
Motherhood, ED Recovery, & Self Care 