I’ve never had to love someone who hated themselves. I’ve never had to watch someone dislike themselves to much that they curl up into a ball on the bathroom floor and cry until their eyes are slightly sore. I’ve never had to experience someone telling me they are angry at themselves for eating actual food for dinner. I’ve never had to hold someone as they cried and felt like they were insane because they didn’t like what the mirror reflected. Finally, I’ve never had someone tell me that sometimes they felt like they wanted to die instead of keep on hating themselves.
Personally, I’ve never been exposed to the receiving end of all those emotions that are probably more difficult to hear than I know. However, I have felt every single one of those emotions, last night to be exact.
I’ve found that at night for the past couple of weeks, I’ve grown infuriated with myself. I get so angry because I made dinner for my husband and I and then I eat it. I get so angry that I ate a meal that wasn’t yogurt. I feel like I can feel my body changing….getting bigger with each passing moment. My brain is screaming, Ed is screaming, I literally feel like screaming and my fingernails dig into my skin. There’s nothing I can compare this feeling to. Then, mixed in with all the anger, I feel….sad. Sad because I literally can’t handle it all or make myself do it. I’m angry, I’m sad and I’m hurt.
As I’m sitting there on my bathroom floor, pretty positive that my legs don’t work anymore because I can’t get up and I haven’t moved in probably 20 minutes, something I’m highly unaccustomed to happens. My husband some in. He says nothing. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong and he doesn’t ask what I’m doing. He quickly shuffles around to the other side of me and I can feel his arms encircle me. He is literally sitting on the bathroom floor with me while my head is buried in my knees. I didn’t say anything for a while or even look up because I’m pretty ashamed of my puffy red face and snot nose. It’s just shaky breath sounds for a while. Finally though, when I do speak it’s just telling him I hate food and I don’t see how I can do this. All he does is reassure me that it’s all going to be okay and somehow, in that moment, it helps.
Whoever said that marriage isn’t worth it or doesn’t work was mistaken. I didn’t realize what it would be like to have someone to always come home to and to always be there for you (or sit on the bathroom floor with you 😉 ) It’s pretty freakin’ cool/amazing/fantastic/a feeling indescribable. I didn’t realize until my drive to work this morning that the part in our vows that goes “in sickness and in health” was something we would experience right off the bat. Not that I forgot I had an eating disorder, I just forgot that qualified as a “sickness”.
That was my Wednesday and this is my Thursday, feeling sad and unsure. Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it yet.