This Food Thing: Backstory [Part Two]

Continuing from Part One, my list went something like this:

I know about addiction and obsessive, compulsive behaviours. I know about mental health and self-sabotage, I know the discipline and commitment it takes to bring the self down. I know about living in the shadows, paranoia and guilt, about depression, anxiety and shame. I know a life half-lived and never, ever feeling good enough. I know secrets and lies and pushing everyone away. I know about hating your reflection and the constant crashing disappointment that you are you.

I’m a real bright light, aren’t I? 

But, bear with me, because I also know about recovery, therapy and leaving the past behind. I know how to deconstruct a story until it’s just well, story: a pile of words gathering dust. I know about second chances, balance, harmony, joy and love. Crucially, I know what it is to be well, to live a joyful and abundant life. I’ve lived the arc from desolation to elation and also learnt to live in the middle, in a more modest and temperate zone.  

We can argue, and you’re right, that this emotional panalopy is what it is to be human. We know joy only if we know despair? And so on. I agree. But, and here’s the thing, my experience of life has been informed largely through the lens of eating disorders, namely anorexia and bulimia; merry bedfellows, both.

And that was the moment the light went on.

“What about our relationship with food?” I said. The other eyebrow on my pal shot up.

“Like food, friend or foe?”

The eyebrows relaxed, podcast-hound smiled and said, 

“That might work,” 

And that, as they say, was that.