I wasn't aware that I wasn't aware

This week (Feb 20 - 26) is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (NEDAW). I've contemplated posting a link or message of support/awareness via my Facebook profile, but I'm just not strong/sure enough to do it.  As you can probably tell by my posts, the disorder isn't a public part of my life.  Even to the handful of close family and friends who know, I am very private about it, and I am thankful they don't push or pry.  I hate that anyone knows, to be honest.  It's not that I don't appreciate the support and prayers, it's that I hate the idea that the eating disorder is now part of their image of me.  I very much see it as a weakness, and I'm not used to being weak.  I pride myself on being a big sister and a good friend, I am often in leadership roles, and I consider myself a good person to come to for advice, support, and motivation.  I'm uncomfortable sharing weakness, and particularly vulnerability, with people, which I think is a pretty normal thing.  Some say it humanizes me.

Well I can think of more preferable ways to show my 'human' side (assuming human means to err).

• Like watching me swear at Tony Horton during the Ab Ripper video when I can't grunt out more than three stupid ceiling stomps.  (Seriously, Eric, the beautiful man-dancer in the back corner, stop mocking me with your gleaming muscles and effortless pelvic tilts.)
• Or observing how terrible I am at driving a standard on a hill, even after 2 years.  I've left a lot of rubber on the road.
• Noticing how perpetually late I am.  Every time.  No matter what.  I just cannot be on time.  I hate time.
• Oh, and that time I crapped my pants.

As I was browsing through some of the information from the NEDA, I came across a list of health consequences for eating disorders.  None of this information is new to me, but for some reason it triggered the realization, like a ton of bricks hitting me in the face, that I am bulimic.  This probably sounds a little redundant or obvious.  But what I mean is that I started thinking about myself from an outside perspective, rather than from within my mind.  I am used to my life and my ED, so sometimes I forget that it's a big deal (even though it's ALWAYS on my mind).  But I am a statistic.  I am truly a person who has been suffering from bulimia for almost ten years.  I binge, I purge, I repeat.  I am at risk for every one of those health consequences, and if I wasn't so careful, I would probably be in the hospital already.  To be honest, sometimes I wish that I would just rupture my esophagus, or have some teeth fall out, or faint into the toilet of my own puke from heart palpatations, just so that I would be forced, medically, to stop.  Isn't that terrible?  I'm being honest.  And to be honest (let's say that word a bunch so we know it's for real!), I don't often like what ends up on this screen.  It's hard to believe how much I've even been protecting from my own thoughts for so many years.  

Even though I sometimes sneer at or doubt the effectiveness of  awareness campaigns (some are really lame), I have to admit, this one has worked on me.  Ridiculous, right?  What I need to do now is find a way to pass along the message, and hope even one person recognizes they have a problem, or can find words to help a friend.  For a little more reading, check out this list of common misperceptions about eating disorders.