Skeleton in the Closet - It's time to tell my daughter

After opening up about my struggle with an eating disorder on this blog I have felt so much freedom. It has been very therapeutic and any comments from friends and family have been supportive. Over all it's been a positive experience. There is one place that my eating disorder is still hidden like a skeleton in a closet. There is still one place that I have to guard what I say. There is still one place where I'm a closed book. That place is my home. My husband knows what is going on and has been supportive. However, my children do not know. I'm sure they suspect something. For two summers in a row I've left once a week for a mystery "appointment". When I'm in the clutches of the eating disorder I'm distracted, aloof, impatient, unpredictable, and unhappy. Just because they are children doesn't mean they are oblivious. Despite what they have observed, I've never come right out and told them, "I have an eating disorder."  But lately I've been thinking a lot about telling my oldest. This is a big deal!

I still really struggle with feeling like I should just stop having an eating disorder. I've read lots of literature, I know it's not something you choose to have or not have. It's a disease.  But I still struggle with feeling like I should be strong enough and in control enough to just stop.  These thoughts bring lots of frustration self-doubt and discouragement. Part of the reason I've always been afraid to talk to my kids about my eating disorder is I've been afraid that they will "choose" to have an eating disorder since I have one. I worry that me telling them will give them an excuse to give into disordered eating behaviors. As I slowly change my beliefs I am realizing one doesn't choose to have an eating disorder. By telling my children, I will not be starting or stoping the chance of them having an eating disorder.  

In all actuality, genetics play a pretty significant role in eating disorders. That is something I can't change or control.  But if I am brave enough to pull down my barrier and share my struggles and pain (as well as my hard work and progress) with my children, then maybe it will open up the doors of communication. I wouldn't wish an eating disorder on my worst enemy. The thought of any of my children struggling with one actually makes me feel panicked and physically sick. I can not bury my head in the sand though. I have to make sure communication about this serious illness is open in my family.  I have to be prepared to help my children fight should this demon come looking for them.   

So, it's time to take this big step. It's scary and vulnerable. However, I feel like it is ultimately in the best interest of my children's future well being. And for them, I'd do anything.  It's time to talk about it and say out loud in my home, "I have an eating disorder."