A Letter to ED

Thank you for always being there for me, especially in the darkest of times. You were always so good at being able to tell when I was upset or stressed and would offer yourself up as comfort. You showed up one day as a way to make me feel better about myself – just lose a little extra weight – and so I listened to you. You told me I could solve all my problems – with school, with friends, in life – if I just did what you said, followed your simple instructions. I did, and the more unhappy I grew, the more you opened your arms to me. Slowly it began to feel like my life was spinning out of control, and you were the one thing I could count on. My rock, my one piece of control in life.

Some part of me, even then, knew that you would never be satisfied with me. No matter what I did for you, no matter what I sacrificed, I was never enough, and you would always ask for more. And when I fell short of your impossible standards, and I always did, thank you for the sleepless, shame-filled nights. You convinced me that you alone were the most important thing in my life, the one thing keeping me together – even if you were really only tearing me apart. You convinced me that you were the only one I could listen to, the only one I could trust. You taught me how to lie. To lie to my doctors, to my friends, to my own family. Mostly though, you taught me how to lie to myself. And I believed every word, because I didn’t see another choice. Together we cut off every relationship that wasn’t our own. Because no one else mattered, only you. Nothing else mattered at all.

I remember the first time I started cheating on you. I tried to tell my mom, but you got so upset it scared me. It was terrifying, and you punished me with guilt and shame every time I disobeyed you. But I kept going to therapy. You would yell and scream at me, so I yelled and screamed too. “This isn’t fair,” we would both say. And sometimes it was so hard, feeling caught between two worlds, being pulled in two separate directions. Sometimes it felt like all I could do was scream.

But things never were quite the same with us. Things were different now, because I had stood up to you, and it was miserable, but I knew I could do it again. Because I finally saw you for who you were, I was no longer under your spell. I learned how to listen to myself, and realized that I was a lot stronger than I thought, because I didn’t need you to feel strong. 

So I broke up with you. Or maybe still breaking up with you, I don’t always know. You have a way of not wanting to let go. But I still wanted to thank you. Because divorcing you was the hardest battle I’ve ever fought. And if I’ve learned anything from our relationship, it’s that hard things are worth it.