Today was the day that I admitted to my T that I have an eating disorder. I wrote her a very long, detailed letter telling her exactly where and when it started, and how it's been shaping my life for the past 9 years or so. Watching her read it was one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever done in T. I couldn't stop fidgeting to try and make it less awkward for myself. But she said that she was really glad I wrote it, and that it was an excellent starting point, and she now sees the various ways Ed has snuck into my life.

It was really hard because even though I really and truly do want to be in control in my life, Ed is the way that I've gotten that, so leaving it behind is scary. My heart is saying one thing, and my head another.

We talked a lot about how I'm moving out and into my own apartment and how that will be a big challenge for me since when left to my own devices, I tend to not eat, even if I've gone grocery shopping and have plenty of food. I told her that I was scared about that -- that it would lead to a downward spiral. That's what happened over this past school year, especially the spring semester. When I moved out of my apartment, I had at least 2 weeks worth of food left in there that I just hadn't touched.

Because I won't be seeing her for awhile (probably) due to job training, we didn't delve too deep, but she also said to think about the length of time I've been dealing with this and then think that it could take that long to really get out of it. And that's scary too. I don't want my whole life to be Ed.

I agreed to try to eat 3 meals and 2 snacks a day with proper portions (that is my HW for the time we aren't seeing each other)...and it's stupid because to me it's a huge thing when that's how normal people eat, if not more than that. Lately I've been eating 1 small meal a day and 1 or 2 small snacks. I've almost completely lost my feeling of hunger, and if I'm not hungry, I don't eat. But T says I have to challenge that and eat anyway, even if I'm not hungry. The hardest will be breakfast. I stopped eating breakfast on a regular basis when I was around 13, and I'm now 22. I hate breakfast. And proper portions? Kill me. They're so big! I don't even know if I could stomach it.

I will also start seeing a nutritionist that my T works very closely with...so we'll see how that goes...

I know this is going to be really, really hard. And I'm not sure if I'm 100% prepared for it. But if I don't start now, maybe I never will. But I also know it will be worth it. To finally be free of the chains that have bound me since middle school. I also know that I can do it. I [mostly] conquered OCD with T a few years back, so now it's Ed's turn.

Oy vey.