by Danah Khalil
Please don’t be angry or upset; no one is to blame here but me.
April 10, 2014
A little red spotting miraculously appeared in my undies the other day. I was surprised, but more than that, I was relieved.
“Finally,” I whispered to myself, “a sign of proper health.”
While this is certainly an indicator of good physical health, I find myself questioning my mental state. Even though it has been two years since I first wrote about and admitted my illness, the battle feels eternal; constantly starting and stopping. I am not nearly as bad as I was, but occasionally I make decisions and then think, This is what Ed wants; this is what he needs.
I cannot allow myself even
one rest day from exercise.
I cannot erase all of the food fears
I have bottled up inside of me.
I cannot give in to hunger or temptation
and indulge in a snack or dessert.
And because of this, I can never expect to attain complete recovery, separation from Ed, and escape from the pit.
Beware, for you have barely changed since we first met.
I am back with a vengeance.
And I am here to stay.
April 22, 2014
I feel as though I can always open up to my mother and tell her anything and everything that is happening in my life. Whether I need advice, or whether I just need someone to talk to, I know that she is always there. I am so grateful to have the sort of relationship with my mother that allows for this openness and honesty about boys, parties, friends, you name it.
But there is one topic that I don’t think I will ever be able to speak truthfully about with her ever again…. Any guesses?
Oh, oh!
I know, I know!
It’s me, isn’t it?
Trust me, I am not complaining.
I never liked your mother’s company much, anyway.
Sometimes, I feel that I really do need someone to talk with about my food and exercise fears and insecurities. Someone who won’t judge or threaten me with going back to the dreaded 8th floor. I’m tired of concealing all my secrets in the pages of this journal. I am tired of suppressing my insane emotions and frightening thoughts.
Hey, I am all ears, baby.
Whenever you need me, I will be here.
April 27, 2014
“Let’s come up with a definition of a mental illness as a class,” my social science teacher said, as he gestured toward the bored kids in front of him. There wasn’t the slightest indication of a response from anyone, but my mind buzzed with curiosity as I lifted my head from the surface of the cold, uncomfortable desk.
The teacher was clearly unimpressed. “Well, how about we approach the question this way…. What are some examples of a mental illness?”
Apparently this was easy for the class, as hands shot in the air.
“Depression!”
“Bipolar disorder!”
“Schizophrenia!”
“Addiction!”
“OCD!”
“Post-traumatic stress!”
“Substance abuse!”
“Dementia!”
“Alzheimer’s disease!”
The list went on and on, but one crucial mental illness was being left out. I tentatively raised my hand, and with a shaky voice suggested,
“E A T I N G
D I S O R D E R.”
Everyone carried on as if I had not said anything at all, which was fine by me. I wasn’t prepared to face the stares that would come from the classmates who were aware of my dark past.
But as we analyzed the difference between psychosis – a mental illness – versus neurosis – a mental health issue – I began to question my diagnosis. I have always assumed that the crusade against my demon has occurred due to some sort of chemical breakdown in my brain, but perhaps it is all just a phase…. Maybe I don’t have a mental illness after all!
Is this all temporary – and thus a neurosis – or are the chemicals in my brain permanently damaged and unbalanced?
Why do you even care?
Why must you put a label on our love?
May 1, 2014
“Wow, that’s new!” my Wednesday night yoga teacher exclaimed, as I lifted my top leg in Vasisthasana and reached for my big toe. A smile immediately appeared on my face. Oh, how delighted I was to get some recognition and praise from the woman I admired so much.
It’s because of her that I have developed a passion for the exquisite art of yoga. From the way I move my body to the way I surprise myself every week with small – yet meaningful – accomplishments, these Wednesday nights have become my favorite time of the week.
Yoga is something I will continue to practice for the rest of my life, and something I want to improve at each and every day. I must begin a daily home practice, but research will be necessary. I am still ignorant when it comes to the Sanskrit names, technique, and flow of each asana, but with my determination—
And my persistence—
I believe that I can do it.
May 17, 2014
“But the problem with buying shorts now is that I am going to lose weight over the summer,” my sister stated proudly. “So how should I know what size to get?” Immediately, I bit my tongue and resisted the strong urge to slug her in the face. Fuck! What do people not understand?
I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING ABOUT YOU AND YOUR DAMN DIET.
And from my own sister, of all people, who I thought would have grasped this concept by now! She continues to be the culprit; her and her never-ending attempt to lose weight. Why? Why must she strive to have the body of a pathetic Victoria’s Secret model, let alone mention it to me? Can’t she see how irritated I become?
I let it go this time, but Lord help her if she continues ranting about weight loss, dieting, workouts, gluten-free recipes, veganism, and plans to join me on my monthly food haul to The Healthy Planet.
God, she is such an idiot….
Why do I allow her to annoy me so much?
Truthfully, it’s because deep down, I feel as though she is stepping on my turf; I am the health-conscious sister. I am the fit sister. I am the one who is knowledgeable about veganism and superfoods.
Why doesn’t she just go back to her junk-food-eating, meat-loving ways and stop stealing my vibes!?
Sounds to me like you are the one being selfish.
You can’t have me all to yourself, you know.
May 18, 2014
Just last week, I hit the tennis courts and played absolutely amazingly, especially for someone who rarely gets the opportunity to play throughout the year. I was consistent, my shots were crisp, I was moving my feet well, and I was actually having a good time.
But today was the complete opposite; all of my shots either sailed out or drove into the net. I couldn’t get to the ball fast enough, and I missed practically every first serve.
WHY CAN’T I BE GOOD
AT JUST ONE FUCKING SPORT?
THAT’S REALLY ALL I ASK.
I WANT TO LOVE TENNIS.
I WANT TO BE GOOD AT TENNIS.
I WANT TO ACTUALLY PLAY TENNIS.
BUT I CAN BARELY FUCKING HIT A SINGLE BALL ON SOME DAYS, SO WHAT’S THE FUCKING POINT OF TRYING?
May 28, 2014
Although I have some major doubts, I am seriously considering starting a healthy lifestyle Tumblr or Instagram blog, where I would share recipes and pictures of my beautiful, nutritious breakfasts and videos of me performing yoga, or working out at the gym.
I know, I know. Red flags are springing up everywhere. But honestly, I have made such stellar improvements that I really do deserve this as a reward for my strength in the battle against my demon so far. After all, I am mentally far stronger than I was in grade 8 when I first joined the Tumblr commu
nity. I should be able to handle creating a blog again without being sucked down into the hole, right?
I guess I will never know until I try…. Truthfully, I am afraid; I’m afraid of what my peers at school may think if they were to find me online, and I am afraid of not gaining enough followers. That last one sounds pretentious, I know, but without a decent fan base to provide you with confidence in your ability to influence them, it’s really difficult to continue wholeheartedly.
I’m already getting a head start, snapping pictures of my smoothie bowls on my phone, jotting down my favorite flavor combinations and recipes, and creating my own yoga flows. All I want is to be like those famous, recovered vegans and yogis that people – including me – look up to and trust with their important life questions.
Do it.
Be one of them.
June 2, 2014
I have this nagging fear of death and injury practically every time I leave the house. It started out as a thought that would flit past now and then. I never paid any attention, until I realized that they were preventing me from doing things I normally would adore doing. Even when I ignore the thoughts and carry on with the potentially threatening activity, I am overcome with all the “what ifs” as I picture every possible situation.
What exactly are these situations? Well, they can range from tubing in the lake to riding my bike, or crossing the street, or even sitting in the car.
And every time I imagine being shredded to bits by the motorboat, or breaking my legs and never walking again, or having a truck ram into the side of me, the next thought is always the same: if any of these were to happen, would I ever be able to work out again?
Then I begin to overreact and panic. I become frantic as I look for wood to knock on. I shut my eyes tightly and beg for happy thoughts to erase the vision of disaster.
Sometimes this works. Most times, it doesn’t.
Does Ed trigger these terrifying scenarios, or am I just looking for someone to blame for my madness?
June 5, 2014
Surprisingly, I am really quite bitter about this year’s school soccer season coming to an end. As it turns out, I really did miss playing. I was surprised at my spirit and skill on the field. Okay, I realize that the level of play is far lower than what I was used to when I played rep, but even against some of the top teams in Toronto, I was a strong force to be reckoned with in defense.
Does this mean I will ever return to my old team? Hell no. But it was nice to discover that I’ve still got it.
June 19, 2014 (16th Birthday)
My heart sank as I searched through the basement cupboards looking for new reads. I had discovered a pile of books that I hadn’t seen before:
How My Teenage Daughter Can Beat an Eating Disorder,
Ways to Prevent Eating Disorders Amongst Your Children,
Understanding Eating Disorders,
The Truth About Life with an Eating Disorder.
Book upon book; page upon page – all about me.
When had my mother purchased these? Had she even bothered to read them? Was I really that drastic a case that she had to turn to some shitty self-help authors for advice? I was flooded with questions, while my eyes were flooded with tears.
Hesitantly, I reached for one and dared myself to scan the pages. At first, it felt as though the paper literally burned the tips of my fingers. Then slowly, the pain subsided, and I spent the next hour sifting through the thick, hardcover books and reading about my demon.
The books were filled with information: basic descriptions of the various types of eating disorders, how to recognize symptoms, treatment options…. It was like someone had analyzed my thoughts; taken a trip into my mind; fully exposed my habits and behavior.
This
Terrifies
Me.
And, of course, this all had to happen on my birthday, of all fucking 365 days of the year.
Happy sweet 16, baby.
Now, shut the books and go work out.
Who knows what shit they might make you eat on your “special” day.
June 20, 2014
I am one of the few people in my friend group to leave my school’s annual Athletic Banquet with no awards. Not one.
Despite my involvement in three major sports, I was unable to snag any specific team award or even be nominated for Rookie of the Year. Didn’t I join enough teams, or do I just fucking suck at every sport I play? I was one of the strongest players on the soccer and volleyball teams – but obviously not even close to being the best. At tennis, I didn’t stand a chance.
At times like these, I really wish I had my own sport for which everyone would recognize me. Instead, I am fated to be average at everything.
Maybe if you were fitter and faster and stronger you could have won.
That is where I have to disagree; if this were a competition of physical fitness, I would surpass nearly everyone in my grade. Unfortunately, optimal health can only help to enhance one’s skill so much, and then it comes down to raw talent.
June 30, 2014
Do I want to go vegan because I genuinely care for the equality of all animals, because I actually prefer the alternatives to animal products, or because Ed is forcing this diet on me?
July 1, 2014
My stomach won’t stop growling. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t eaten since 3:30 this afternoon and it’s now 11:00 p.m. I can’t sleep because I am unable to snack. Why would I eat my last meal at 3:30, you ask? Well, this summer, my beach training starts at 4:30, meaning I must leave the house at 3:45. Since I cannot play on an empty stomach, and since I must work off my dinner, I have to eat from 3:15 to 3:30.
It sounds ridiculous.
I sound ridiculous.
Three o’clock is lunchtime to some, not dinner, but what else can I do?
There is nothing else for you to do.
It is nothing that a nice, tall glass of water won’t fix.
Is this hunger really worth something as petty as not allowing myself to eat snacks? I understand that, in Ed’s eyes, snacking equals a lack of self-control, but what about how I see it? Doesn’t that matter at all?
What a stupid, pointless question.
July 3, 2014
I am going to drop.
I am going to give up.
WAIT.
Did that thought really just sneak past Ed’s guard?
Oh, my God.
Yes, it did.
WAIT.
Will I actually go through with it?
WHAT?
No, there is no way I can break this asana.
Just imagine how pissed Ed will be.
He will never let me hear the end of this one.
NEVER.
I regret even thinking it.
Is it too late to take the thought back?
FUCK!
Everything is burning.
My core.
My arms.
My legs.
I cannot do it.
I am going to drop.
I am going to give up.
My heart sinks at the disappointing sight of stopwatch in front of me.
No.
No.
No.
NO.
There is no way I can do this for another two minutes.
What is wrong with me today?
FUCK.
Have I really become this weak?
I thought my abs were stronger than this.
Oh, no.
AH.
I am slipping.
I am scared.
I want to drop.
I think I will.
I think I have to.
Do I have a choice?
HELP.
What is the worst that could happen?
Don’t you fuck
ing dare, Danah.
Don’t be a fucking pathetic weakling.
I will make you do it all over if you drop.
SHIT!
Okay, fine.
FINE.
I will push myself.
I will not give up – for you.
July 15, 2014
“Ew. What is that?” I gagged at the greasy mess of deep-fried food on my friend’s plate.
“What? It is from The Colossal Onion!”
“So, it’s literally an entire onion cut open and deep-fried?” God, my cholesterol was skyrocketing just from looking at that thing.
“Jesus, Danah,” he said. “We’re at the fall fair. It’s practically a crime not to order the most disgusting, greasy food you can find!”
“Then, I guess I am just a fucking criminal now!”
I snapped back.
“Hey, everything in moderation, right?” he said with a smirk. He dunked a piece of battered onion into some sort of mayonnaise sauce. “Come on, try some,” he said. I cringed, waving my hand in protest, and actually had to turn away from the sight and the smell.
Honestly, I don’t understand why people would voluntarily feed their bodies such CRAP. After all, we really do only have one body; it is essential that we optimize its performance in every way possible by fueling it correctly and exercising it sufficiently…. Is that disordered thinking? Certainly not. There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to spread my love for healthy living and my concern for the well-being of others.
Yes! You go, baby.
Spread the word for the world to hear
Let everyone know that I am yours to share.
July 17, 2014
Constant conflict. I am in constant conflict with the demon.
Weight.
Diet.
Exercise.
Will I ever experience peace in my life? Or will I continue to be toyed with by Ed?
He has left a permanent tattoo on my soul; he resides within me. Lately, I hear him scratching at the door, like a dog, begging to be let inside.
Did you really just eat all that?
Since when did you lose so much self-control?