In about 40 minutes, there will be an Eating Disorders Anonymous Meeting on the third floor of the student center. I'm sitting in the center's (admittedly awful) coffee shop, debating a) getting a latte and b)whether I should go and check it out.
Truth be told, I'm worried about how I'd react. My anorexia has a wide, messy competitive streak (think an eighth-grader's at-home highlights). Despite my progress of late, there's a part of me that still longs to be as thin as she is, to have the willpower she must have. Even if that person is very obviously sick - sicker than I ever was - there's that tiny voice that tells me to do better, to stop being so lazy, and don't you dare get that latte. Dr. M once said that with my tendencies, all I'd learn from a group therapy program would be how to be a really, really good anorexic. So confronting a room full of skinny people might be ... itchy.
On the other hand, I have made progress. I don't want to toot my own horn, but what if I could help somebody? If I get over my damn self and just tell my story, it might do somebody good. Tell them that it really can get better, it really is possible to have a semblance of what you had before. It'll never be quite the same - no experience of this magnitude can leave you unchanged. But the person you've become - you can make peace with that person. You can enjoy food again. It might be the damned hardest thing you've ever done, but you can.
I think I might be too chicken to go tonight (my shit-ton of work is another excuse). But I think I will get a latte.