This is the face…

2014-01-06 14It’s hard to believe that behind every curtain there is a window.

It’s even harder to believe that behind every window there is a scene.

It’s almost impossible to believe that behind some peoples curtains there is a window with a horrific scene.

This scene plays out day in and day out as a macabre film on auto playback. Grim, gruesome, but reality. The scene behind this window is actually a sad scene in you look at it a few ways. The actor in question struggles day in and out to “fit” into a stereotype, but forgot a long time ago why she feels the need to fit in. This person is one that you might have seen before at the bank, on the sidewalk, at the mall. You never know, she could be sitting next to you, living that scene behind her own window.

This is the window in front of a person with a disordered mind – an eating disordered mind. The person behind that window is me, in a constant vortex of self torment, hate and destruction. Behind every scene there is a window, in front of every window there is a curtain. Would you open that curtain to see what it behind it, even if you knew what you were going to see.

This is the life of a bulimic. This is the life of an anorexic. This is the life of a girl that is so happy and blessed in so many ways but behaves in such a wicked way, but doesn’t understand why. This girl is me. I am that girl.

Although, many people have grown to know me as the “social butterfly” type and the “BMW girl”, I’m an onion waiting to be peeled. Stinkier as you peel away.

In an attempt at recovery and liberating myself from this wicked scene, I’ve written a book. I’ve labored over this book, and I’d like to share this book with you. I’m just not sure how, or who would read it. This book is about me. This book is about how people deal with me.

This book was written with my blood, sweat and puke.

This book is called: The noodle, the noose, and the nectar.

Inquire if you have interest. Console if you feel you can. Relate if you are, or know somebody dealing with an eating disorder.

This is the face of an eating disordered girl, trying to be happy. Living her happy life, hating her unhappy thoughts.



5 thoughts on “This is the face…

  1. I don’t know eating disorders, but have wrestled with depression and anxiety. Your post resonated greatly. How can I feel like such a fraud, when I’ve always striven to live with integrity and even accomplished things other people might envy?

    “I’m an onion waiting to be peeled. Stinkier as you peel away.” This line brought tears to my eyes. A therapist once challenged me to stop shaming myself and refute my inner critic with a list of my good qualities and accomplishments. It’s an ongoing battle…

    Your use of the word wicked reminded me of my fundamentalist religious childhood. I doubt you are wicked. You’re probably just human, like the rest of us doing our best to find our way in this absurd wonder called life. Thank you for touching the life of this internet stranger today!

    • It’s interesting, Dragon, that you’ve mentioned depression and anxiety. Both of those go hand in hand with the ED. It’s something, forgive me if I offend, that I think we’ve picked up piece by piece as we mature. For some reason some people pick up little pieces of ego, we pick up little pieces of self doubt. The accomplishments that others carry with them and allow them to carry their heads high are the failures we imagine we are.

      The onion, it’s not as simple as just peeling back and getting to the middle though. Just like everything in this world is made up of something, it all breaks down to electrons, protons and neutrons. Breaking yourself down to that very basic level will only allow you to see that your three building blocks are out of order. Hyper analyzing yourself will only make you aware of what you think you know, not so much what others see.

      The wicked nature in us all is just the manifestation of the ugly things we tote around with us. It’s impossible to smell like roses when You’ve rolled in crap seconds before. Look at yourself and realize that the depression that you (and I to the manic extent) is something that we use as a defense mechanism. We use our melancholy to help protect us from feeling what we really want to feel. We keep ourselves from feeling these emotions because we’re afraid of what the outcome will be.

      Will somebody think less of you because of it?

      • And yet, you can’t grow good roses without the manure. I remember going to my brother’s memorial service 20+ years ago (similar situation but a different manifestation) and after listening to all of the stories from his co-workers and friends that he had the worst opinion of himself than anyone in the room. It is always that way. We our our worst critic because we know all of our own faults, but we don’t know a fraction of everyone else’s. And if you are prone to self-introspection, it is.tough to remember that. If you think that someone has their stuff together, then you just don’t know them well enough yet.

  2. Nikki,

    As someone else already noted, that was a very brave column to post. I would be very interested in reading whatever you care to share in your book. I have known a couple of friends and family members that shared your illness and have managed to survive.

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