Man's Best Friend

And no, this post is not about dogs.  It's about a man, let's call him "Malcom" for confidentiality purposes.

Malcom is the most beautiful man you will ever meet. No, he's not just handsome. He's beautiful. He's smart, sweet, funny. Perfect. Perfect? (Is that a congnitive distortion?)
Anyway, we hung out last night. We went out to this fancy schmancy restaurant with a few other people. I ate PIZZA with Malcom (HUGE challenge). It was the first time I had eaten in front of him (double victory!). We had our share of cuddly moments, yadda yadda yadda. To make a long story short, I texted him this morning. I was blunt. I asked him "How come you don't want to be more than friends with me? Are you waiting for someone prettier/ better/ nicer?" He answered with just about the nicest, worst answer ever: "I don't want to sound mean, but you're not my type. We just make such great friends."

Maybe it's just me, but that directly translates to "You're not pretty enough", "You're not smart enough", "You're not nice enough", "You're not cool enough", etc... I'm sorry but YOU DON'T KISS YOUR GREAT FRIENDS. How do you kiss and cuddle with someone that isn't your type? So I asked him. And Malcom responded with "Sometimes physical wants beats morals. It was a mistake on both our parts."
"No. It wasn't a mistake." I told him, "I like you alot, and I guess I was silly for thinking it was mutual."

Great friends? Sure.
Can I even start to think of seeing Malcom with another girl? No.

So what happened next? Nothing good. That's for sure. I called Canopy Cove and told them about my urges. But they didn't call back in time. After using behaviors and not-so-good coping skills, all I could think was What is wrong with me? I want to be sick. SICK. Sick to the point of no return. When I was sick and married to my anorexia, this never would have happened. Truth is: It never would have happened because I would never have left the house, talked to a guy, became vulnerable with another human being. And it's crazy that I still often crave that sense of security that my eating disorder gave me. It was safe. It was comfortable. It was reliable. I didn't have to worry about being hurt by men, because I avoided them. But it's a trade off. I can't have the amazing things I have now and still be sick.

Now, maybe this whole situation doesn't seem like such an epic disaster that it is to me. And that's okay. And maybe I'm overreacting. That's okay too. I'm allowed to overreact. Maybe this post will help you understand that an eating disorder mind is a deadly and manipulative one. An eating disorder mind will get you to believe the worst of things.

After crying myself to the point of blurred vision, I knew I had to leave my house. I could no longer bear to be alone with my thoughts. So I forced myself to shower. And then I got dressed and went on my way in the downpouring rain to Starbucks (my second home).

God bless Karen. She called me back and talked some rationality into me:
Who is Malcom to have the power to control what I do? What I eat? What I do to my body? GOD IS IN CONTROL! He is all we need. He is all I need. She suggested everytime I think of Malcom, that I instantly replace that thought with a thought like God, please direct myself to Your truth. Help Malcom find what he needs to find. Help me to focus on You, God, and Your will. I can do this. God will give me the strength I need to get through this and every day. God sends me blessings like a call from Karen, my roommate Carly, my family, my precious nephews. I have my God and that, my friends, is what controls my life, not Malcom.