Eating Disorder- Understood

Eating Disorder Part 7- Understood

I sat in the waiting room with sweaty palms feeling sick to my stomach trying not to stare at the door. I had no idea what I was doing here. I had no idea what I was going to say and I was so afraid that the therapist would look at me and tell me I was fine. That I was wasting her time by being there. Here is a little secret for ya… if my sister-in-law hadn’t made special arrangements for me to meet with this therapist I would have walked out and not thought twice about it. I kept trying to read a magazine I held in my hands but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was going a million miles an hour. As I was sitting there a girl walked in and sat down. I tried to study her under my eyelashes so it wasn’t obvious. She was skinny. She had long wavy dark hair and she was beautiful. I tried not to stare but I couldn’t. I felt angry. Angry that I was there. Angry that she was skinnier and prettier then me. Angry that I never felt like I fit in anywhere. I just felt angry sitting there waiting.

Finally, the door opened and my therapist Wendy called my name to come back. We walked back to her office and made small talk. Her office was small with a couch for me and a wing back chair for her. There was a bookshelf in the corner with all kinds of books but also some random items. Running shoes, pants, hoodies, posters, quotes, pictures etc. I sat down on the couch and we started talking. She was asking me questions like why was I there? What did I want to see happen? She asked me if anything traumatic had happened to me as a child. I told her about when I was 12 and the feelings I have felt about myself ever since. I told her about boyfriends, friends and anything else that had hurt me in my past. I told her I felt like I wasn’t enough. I told her I felt like I was a horrible mother. I told her about my deepest darkest secrets. I told her I didn’t understand myself. That I didn’t know why I did some of the things I did. I didn’t know why things hurt my feelings so bad. I told her about the hurtful things people had said to me that had destroyed me. I told a complete stranger things I had never shared with anyone. She then asked me a question that rocked my world…

“Have you always felt so misunderstood? Have you always felt like you didn’t belong anywhere?”

Just typing that out I have the same reaction as I did that day 2 years ago. My eyes instantly fill with tears and the knot in my throat grows to the point where I can’t talk. I cried and I cried. It was all I could do as images of my life flashed in my head. All the times I felt crazy, misunderstood, alone, weird, hurt etc. were all I could think and see as the tears ran rampant down my cheeks. I realized in that moment my whole life or as long as I can remember I felt misunderstood. I felt misunderstood by my family, my in-laws, people at school, at church or even strangers on the street. People thought I was a brat. People thought I was stuck up. People thought I was pretty. People thought I was emotional. People thought I was conceded. People thought and people thought but people didn’t know. They didn’t know that I was quiet not because I was bratty but because I was feeling out my surroundings, looking for some emotional stability. Something or someone that made me feel comfortable in my environment. I didn’t smile because I hated my smile not because I didn’t like you. I lashed out when I felt hurt or angry because I hated myself and I didn’t need or want anyone to remind me of things I was lacking. I already knew. Even when I was older and tried really hard to not be the same girl people still always talked about what a brat I was or how selfish I was. I always felt like something was wrong with me. I always wondered why I did the things I did because according to everyone else they were wrong. No matter how hard I tried to change me it still was never enough for everyone else. I always felt like who I was and the way my brain worked was wrong. I felt like I was ‘different” then everyone else and I never understood why. I was different but now I understand why.

Wendy’s question was the first time that someone saw “me.” She saw me behind all the garbage that I was hiding behind. She let me know by those 2 questions that all I was feeling and had felt for 18 years was understood by her. She let me know that there were other people who thought and felt like I did. I wasn’t weird. I wasn’t wrong. I was a girl with an eating disorder and I was understood.