the final straw

One night, nine months ago, I was sitting in bed scanning through pinterest (I know, I know, terrible to look at your phone right before bed), and I came across this picture:

IMG_2872

(This is an actual screenshot from that night, note the 10:30p time stamp and dying battery, pinterest was a priority!)

Now.  This was during my “I’m never getting over this ED thing” phase.  I had given up hope.  And I saw this picture, and you can’t see them, but there were comments slamming Erin Wasson because she is a super famous model, a role model and was smoking.  And I was immediately, really angry.  We are quick to put this model on a pedestal because of her figure, but we are slamming the way that she stays thin.  And because it’s smoking, we feel the right to put her down.  But if they took a pic of her hunched over a toilet, we would suggest therapy and pity her ED.

And I can’t for the life of me figure out how I made this leap, but I thought, “Well, maybe if I can’t beat bulimia, I’ll just start smoking.”

Right.

And then I realized that if I didn’t get help I was not going to die of heart failure, I was going to die of lung disease.  So I googled eating disorder therapists, found one that seemed a little different than the others and I filled out one of those goofy contact forms that no one ever responds to and decided that if it were meant to be, I’d hear back.

My (current) therapist called back at 8am the next morning….

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