Separating From Ed

Dear Counseling, Nursing, Medical, Therapy, and Diet Staff,      Seven months ago, I left your facility after five weeks of treatment. Obviously, it wasn't great that I had to come in the first place, but it was the right move, and I am so grateful for the time that I spent at CFD and for all of the tips, tools, strategies, and resources that I learned and was able to bring home to continue my recovery. The help and support that you provided for me was instrumental in sparking a change.      I know that I could not have done this on my own; I needed your help. The amount of love and care that you poured into my life was absolutely incredible. I didn't know or realize how bad I actually was until I am now looking from the other side.      I'm not fully recovered. I left your facility and had to put in even more work once I returned home. I had to fight for adequate breaks at my job, advocate for myself at appointments, use strategies that you taught me, follow a meal plan

     I am not perfect. I never have been and I never will be. I know this, but deep inside of me, I still long to get as close to perfect as possible.      Jesus knows all about me, my imperfections, mistakes, and shortcomings. He knows it all. He knows when I slip up. He knows when I say, do, or think something that I shouldn't. He is aware of all of my thoughts. He knows when I want to obey Ed, act on a behavior, treat someone in an unkind manner, or think about harming myself. He knows that I was on and off in a deep depression seasonally when I was a teenager and in college. He knows the thoughts I have had about killing myself, the thoughts about cutting, the thoughts of restriction, and the ideas of poisonings I have had. He knows of every time I thought of driving off of the road to end it all. He knows about how grieved I was due to the appearance of my teeth prior to braces. He knows that I wanted to be gone instead of live in the shame and ridicule that myself and others

Dad,      You didn't mean to, but you terrified me as a child. Not in who you are or what you did, but through your words. It wasn't in the sense of threatening to abuse me, verbally harass me, emotionally harm or intentionally neglect me. It was in the joking. I didn't know you were joking sometimes, and I took your wording seriously.      I was afraid. I remember being scared of the following things, but you never knew: That you would make us go over a dam in the canoe That I had to finish things that I started That you would be disappointed when I quit volleyball That you would allow doctors to hurt and scare me That you loved Quin more That you would tell your coworkers secrets about me That you would tell my private information to the relatives Having to touch something dirty or dangerous Getting hurt by sporting equipment Not feeling protected Being left home alone when I wasn't ready for that      I'm sure there are more, and probably a maj

     I'm worried.      Not like how I used to worry that I would get a disease, had to workout, or had to restrict.      Right now I'm worried that I will lose control. I'm concerned that I won't be able to stop myself from eating too much. I'm thinking about how I could "let" myself become unhealthy.      This past week, we were able to host my volleyball team over for dinner, and there were quite a bit of leftovers. I feel as though I "binged" on them, but I use that word loosely. I don't think I actually binged, but I definitely ate way more than I needed to or could have accounted for because the food was here, it was good, and it was free. I ended up feeling sick from being too full about three nights this past week, which is not a good feeling. Then, on top of that, I have all of these thoughts and feelings regarding my decisions.      I feel guilty, ashamed, and bad for making choices that led to me overeating and subsequently