I was diagnosed with anorexia binge/purge subtype today.
I was shocked (and it showed). I consider myself bulimic only. The case manager commented on my shock asking why I felt I didn’t meet the criteria for a diagnosis of anorexia. I gave her the “I’m not thin” argument and the “but I do eat” argument.
The case manager delivered the diagnosis in front of my boyfriend. He was required to go to the family part with me. I have been distressed about it for weeks.
He sat next to me and held me hand. I couldn’t look at him. I hung my hair down or hid my face with my hand. The case manager told me it might get uncomfortable when she asked for “delicate” information. There is nothing like admitting to the severity of your ED as your boyfriend sits there only having known very little. It was awful to recount being raped and abused by my ex husband. I had never told him about the sexual abuse.
Afterwards he was confused at how the questions they asked were the same as last time and didn’t really seem to go into us as a couple. I didn’t get to voice my concerns about our situation with the children.
I did get to rehash my childhood. I recalled my father kicking my 2 year old brother around the garden like he was a rugby ball. The tears started then and I stopped them. Had I started crying, I would never have stopped. I tried to detach. I was agitated. The case manager commented on my obvious agitation.
She asked if I felt I had an eating disorder. Yes. She asked if I felt I needed help. No. When she asked why I argued that I wasn’t sick enough and that my ED is manageable. She didn’t buy it.
Afterwards, my boyfriend couldn’t read me. He had come to hold my hand expecting tears and waterworks. He didn’t know why he was there or his role – nothing was directed at him. He is still analyzing it hours later. I love him for it all even though I didn’t want him there.