I remember the day I lost control.
It was the day ED moved into my head. I was adjusting to life as a mother. My daughter was less than a year old. Actually she was probably only 3 months old or so. It was a sunny day with a light breeze. (The name ED is suggested by "Life Without Ed" by Jenni Schaefer http://www.jennischaefer.com )
You know how it is when you first become a mom. You have to manage a day around the demands on an infant. As much as you might try to establish a routine, the reality is when the infant is hungry she needs fed.
A neighbor, let's just say a high-maintenance friend -- and I decided to go shopping together.
The problem was, I allowed her to control the day -- and I got home and I had to deal with the demands of my husband and the baby. I don't recall what it was that I actually wanted to do, but I know I didn't get to do it.
I realized that I wasn't in control anymore and that's when I opened the door to ED. He offered me comfort, healing. He said he could comfort me.
He offered me a big of Lays potato chips. I don't even like those chips, but I ate the better part of a bag, drowning my sorrows in salt and saturated fats.
After that, the proverbial "box" was opened.
I remember consuming bags of Halloween candy later that year. My husband, finding piles of wrappers in my car one day asked me what I was doing.
I would get up in the middle of the night and eat anything I could find.
I would plan my day, my life around meals.
As I had more children and moved further away from my unfettered life, ED offered me comfort and kindness -- his version of healing and health.
He had become the most important person in my life.
I trusted ED before I trusted anyone or anything else.
Somewhere I started believing that someone else always knew better. Someone else was always right.
I stopped listening to me.
I stopped listening to the people who truly cared for me unconditionally and only heard the conditional voices.
That's when Ed's partner Vicki was able to gain strength.
She's always been a part of my life, but at no other time did I allow her to become so strong.
It wasn't long before they were the only people I truly cared about. My own spirit, voice and conscience was lost.
Now as I try to silence their voices I'm finding it truly empowering to physically separate their voices from mine in print. My counselor, Megan ( http://www.peacewithfood.com/ ) says it's good that I've been getting the last word in my dialogues. I struggle everyday, but am determined to win the battle.