On my daily recovery adventure I have reached a point where I function well enough again to be able to understand, absorb and believe scientific information about how the human body/mind complex works. This evening I read about the Minnesota starvation experiment. It’s sure a classic of the ED scene but I had no memory of or care for it before, living in the throes of my illness. Reading about the effects of starvation on the body really helps me to fight my illness. My illness tries to persuade me to try to exist on air. It tries to tell me that eating will lead to disastrous consequences. ‘That sandwich will make you and the whole world with it explode. This will necessarily happen.’
I’ve succeeded today however to take an omega3 pill for the first time in a few years. A tiny amount of pure fat, it was unfathomable to me previously that I could ingest such a thing, even though my binging, brought on by ravenous hunger, resulted in much much more going into my stomach. But the thought of taking a pill to nourish my brain with something I so loathed, fat, was just too much of a horror. The clue here is nourishment. The clue here is well-being. Before recovery, I deserved none of those. I ate because I knew I had to appear functional. I ate when I knew I would suffer from faintness if I didn’t. Not because I wanted to give my body anything. I did not deserve anything.
The illness is such a cruel tenant. I’m of course kicking it out. I know eating enough healthy fats is crucial – look what happened to the Minnesotans. Some of them went similarly cray-cray upon starvation, had ED-like thoughts and behaviours. I try to eat healthily and in a balanced-ish manner and think that there are little men inside me, building new highways and tower blocks. They need material and thus I must feed myself. There’s an animation series called Once upon a time…life that I used to watch when I was a kid. I basically imagine that is happening inside me as we speak. Every little helps in recovery….