My grandfather died today. I knew it was coming, but it still struck me. Hard. He was such a big part of my life, and I looked up to him in so many ways. To say that I will miss him would be an understatement. My grandfather never failed to remind me of how proud he was of me, and of how important I was to him. He knew I had an eating disorder, and while he never explicitly commented on it, he was always there to support me and to show me love.
I have been fighting especially hard lately, and part of it is due to my grandfather. He wouldn't want his granddaughter to live a life plagued by an eating disorder. He would want to see me happy, healthy, and caring for animals. He would want me to be free of this evil disease. He was a doctor, so he knew what the eating disorder was doing (and could do) to my body, and I'm not blind to what damage I've done either.
It's an uphill climb every day, but I'm working my hardest. I don't want to carry this eating disorder around with me any longer. I want to be healthy and happy, like my grandfather would have wanted and like my family and husband and friends want. I am digging down deep for the strength to fight back against the urges and the demands of the eating disorder, and I'm happy to say that lately, I've been on the winning end most of the time.
I feel like I'm finally shedding some of the eating disorder, even if the pieces I shed seem tiny to others. I'm doing things that make me uncomfortable, and I'm surviving. I'm proud of myself for that, and I know my grandfather would be, too.
I'm not saying that it's been easy to transition from being 'in' my eating disorder to fighting like hell to get out of it. Not at all. But I have a loving, supportive husband, a wonderful family, and caring friends, and they've been there for me. I also pay people to listen to me, so there's that. Mostly, though, I just want to live. Being trapped in an eating disorder isn't living. I have a husband to love, animals I adore, people I care about, things I want to learn and places I want to go..
If my grandfather's death has taught me anything, it's that life is precious. It sounds corny, but it's true. I don't want to waste any more of my life with an eating disorder. I'm think I'm finally starting to let go.