M is my wife of several years. Just over a year ago, she told me that she had been suffering from anorexia for over 6 months. I was completely blindsided. I knew she had lost a lot of weight, but whenever I asked her about it, she said she just didn't have any appetite because of medication she was taking. Stupid me, I believed her little tale. This was, to my knowledge, the first thing she's ever hidden from me during our time together. (I've since learned that a newfound expertise in deception is a common side effect of any eating disorder.)
For the past twelve months, I've been trying to help my beautiful M recover from this disease. I'm writing this blog to try to explain, in my own confused roller-coaster state, what's it's like to love someone who's suffering from an eating disorder. I'm doing this because:
* blogs are cheaper than therapy, and
* I suspect there are a lot of people out there dealing with the same shit I am.
Thanks for visiting.