Happy Friday everyone,
Well, today’s title kind of explains everything in one sentence, but let me further explain myself so it doesn’t come off as crazy as it may seem. Or maybe it still might look crazy, but that’s OK.
So I had just finished getting dressed this morning when I was standing in my bathroom attempting to do my hair, when I caught myself just starring at myself in the mirror, thinking about how this sweater doesn’t fit me how it used to last winter.
At first I was thinking these thoughts in my head, like why the material is bunching up on this part of my arm, or why it looks a certain way, and then before I knew it, I was talking to myself out loud.
It’s kind of funny now that I write about it, but honestly, in that moment, it was not funny.
I couldn’t believe that I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror having a conversation with me and myself about why my arms look too big in my sweater…this explains only a small fraction of the crazy making things that an eating disorder can do to you.
All by myself, I went through all of the reasons why I don’t think I look good anymore. Out loud. I was actually trying to be kind to myself and justify why it is OK to not look the same as I used to. I’m not saying it worked, but I did try.
And Ed was watching this the whole time because I could feel his presence around me, laughing at me thinking how ridiculous I am for trying to convince myself that these were actually legitimate reasons to not look good.
There is never a legitimate enough reason for Ed to not look absolutely perfect.
Is this really that crazy, or don’t we all have conversations with ourselves on a daily basis?
Those conversations might stay inside our heads and not always be verbalized, but I know for me, I have conversations with myself about the way I look in the mirror almost everyday.
Sometimes they are good conversations and sometimes I tell myself how great I think I look.
Today just happened to not be such a great conversation and it happened to be out loud. I am thankful no one was home, although I guess that doesn’t matter much anymore, now that I am telling you all about it here.
And then later in the day, I found myself having the same conversations with myself in yet another mirror, yet this time it was at my dad’s house and I was looking at the way my jeans looked on me.
But this time, I didn’t talk to myself out loud because my little brothers were there and I would never let them hear the kind of negative thoughts that Ed taints my mind with sometimes.
So, there you have it.
I talked to myself in my bathroom mirror today, out loud, about why I didn’t look good in my sweater.
Was it the greatest day in my recovery? No.
But, it also by far was not my worst.
At least with this experience, I can kind of look back on it as I write this and laugh at it.
Sometimes laughing at even the things that hurt us the most, can help speed up the time it takes us to heal.
Hello to laughing at talking to myself in my bathroom mirror, hello to not judging myself for it, hello to moving past it, and lastly…