Eating Disorder Or No Eating Disorder, Let's All Be Thankful.

     Thanksgiving is a holiday dedicated to that one huge meal that everyone's supposed to enjoy. Every year since my parents divorced, my dad, his mom and step-dad (who drive from Alabama), my sister, and me all pitch in to fix every food imaginable for dinner, one that could never in a million years be consumed by five people. But we do it anyway. Don't get me wrong; I love my family, and I love spending time with them. The AL grandmother, Mama, is the one who sent me a card every day during the eighteen months that I was in residential treatment. And this is the grandfather who sent thousands of dollars on a Martin guitar for me two years ago. They love us so much, and we love them, too. They're awesome. But that doesn't make the holidays any less difficult for someone with an eating disorder.

     I feel terrible about feeling so terrible. I hope that makes sense. I have so many people and things that I am able to be grateful for, and I thank God for that. But there's just so much food. The meal has been over for hours now, but there is still so much food in this house. It's horrible to consider that a bad thing. Not everyone can say that they even have enough food, and I am keenly aware of that. But it's still really hard. My mind is consumed with the guilt that is leftover from eating. I didn't even binge, but I still feel absolutely awful. Maybe it's the whole concept of the meal that gets to me, or maybe it's all that food that's still around me. Either way, I simply cannot shake this feeling of misery.

     I really don't know what to write about now. I guess I'll just state the obvious:  I survived Thanksgiving. I really really did. It certainly wasn't easy, but I got through it. Now I have to remember that for Christmas.