No sour grapes

To my many disorders,

This break up is not my fault it’s yours.

It’s actually not because I’m unloveable or because I got “too fat,” or because sometimes I need a little reminder to eat and some reassurance that I’m not offensive to look at. It’s not because of anything I’ve done, it’s all you. You took away yet another thing I loved.

You gnawed away at my personality to the extent I was temporarily lost, only partially visible underneath the icing of self-loathing. You saw I was happy but just couldn’t let me have it could you. You had to stir yourself right in and push him away.

Maybe in time when I’m stronger, when you don’t control the way I think, maybe I’ll actually believe what I am saying to you now. I’ll believe this had nothing to do with the person I am, or the extra flab roll I’ve acquired, despite your best efforts to feed me otherwise.

Maybe I’ll let myself believe another thing; that actually it was a little bit you but mostly it was him. When I’ve finally purged you for good, I’ll see that I WAS worth waiting for. Hopefully I’ll realise, it actually wasn’t a tall order to expect someone, who I thought loved me for me, to remember that I would be me again soon and to just hold my hand while I pieced myself back together. And that it wasn’t my job to remind him that my ace-ness was still there and I would find it again.

It actually wasn’t a completely bizarre request to want the person I was sharing my life with to put himself aside for a minute, to join forces with me on meal planning; to help me find some consistency around food, just while I built my strength and confidence back- together.

Maybe now I’ll be able to finally recognise that my strength and perseverance is, actually, quite incredible. It’s something to be admired, not ran away from. He gave up on me when I hadn’t even given up on me.

Maybe I’ll be able to finally make the connection with my urges to binge- as they have been in the past- as a cry for comfort and a response to feeling undervalued. I can’t blame him for that but I can thank him for making me realise.

Maybe I’ll be able to use this breakup as further ammunition against you, when you tell me I’m not strong, or I’m worthless and I should hate myself. I’ll know that actually none of those things have an ounce of truth in them.

I was strong enough to leave when something wasn’t right. I knew I was worth more than being told I’d never change and even I don’t hate myself enough to be someone’s “not sure.”

So the next time you bully me into not getting out of bed, not only will I not listen, I WILL get up and I’ll do so, damn proudly, because I am worth it. I should be first choice on the menu.

And I’ll look in the mirror and say thanks Mr X, you’ve done me a favour.”

Yours defiantly,

B.

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