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January 4, 2016

A Letter to My Eating Disorder…

A Letter to My Eating Disorder…

The two letters below were written by (former) clients to their eating disorders. With their permission, we share these letters to inspire others to seek treatment and fight for recovery.

Letter #1:


You are no longer welcomed in my life. Your constant companionship has left me nothing but lonely and hollow inside. You fed me lies instead of the food I really needed. You locked up the voice of my wise mind and hid the key from me. You told me that no one would love me unless I was thin.

Well ED, I did what you told me. I became so malnourished that I lost my hair, my sense of feeling, and my sense of self. You led me on a path of destruction that left me alone and confused. As I was physically and emotionally dying, you encouraged me to continue on this path.

I am no longer your “friend” ED. I am standing up for myself. Although you told me that I am worthless and I do not deserve my life, I do. I am taking back control from you, ED. I found the key to the voice of my wise mind and I am allowing myself to follow it. I am no longer going to feel isolated and abandoned. I am going to embrace recovery and allow myself to live a life worth living.

Therefore ED, as hard as this may be, I am ending this “bad romance.” You have brought me nothing but heartache and sorrow. Goodbye ED. I hope I never hear from you again. If you try to contact me, I will be busy living the life I deserve and have no time for you. Farewell.

Letter #2:

Dear ED,

I know you bought me those jeans but I’m just writing to tell you that I don’t want them anymore. You lied and made me believe that they were a gift when really you were playing tricks with the mirror and disregarding my health as you told me how amazing I looked in them.

I may have felt good as I stepped out of the dressing room then but now I know there are more important things in life than my “great” pair of jeans. You never told me those jeans were dangerous, that by just putting them on you would control me. You never told me that my heart muscle was deteriorating, that it beat slower and slower to the point of almost stopping. No, you distracted me by bombarding me with compliments to make me feel amazing.

Even though you’re not going into medicine and I am, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that without a functioning heart there would be no one to even put on the jeans. ED, you don’t make any sense, and I’m sick of it so take your jeans back. I’m not going to let you hurt and break my heart anymore.

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