It’s been estimated that by the age of 67, a woman has spent about a year of her life thinking about weight and diet.
The calculations work out to 21 minutes a day or almost 2.5 hours a week. Damn. Imagine what you could do with an extra 2 hours each week (nap!).
Hmmm. I think this daily average is way low, at least for me. I spent a decade hating my body and eating, shall we say…weirdly, and 5 of those years were hardcore into eating disorders. I’m thinking I’ve probably spent over a year already.
I recently read an article about a woman’s experience witnessing her sister’s struggles with eating disorders, as well as her own challenges (“My Sister is Dying“). It’s a heartbreaking, haunting, and somehow beautiful piece. When I read it, I felt it — the pain, sorrow, loneliness, and helplessness.
Struggles with food are about so much but not really about food. They can suck you in to the point you don’t think you can ever climb out. The pit seems bottomless and so very, very lonely. And asking for help? Where do you even start, that is if you’re even ready? Maybe that is even harder than the day-to-day struggles.
Climbing out of the pit, deep healing — it’s possible, this I know, I’ve experienced. It’s not easy or pretty. Make no mistake that it will be a cakewalk with rainbows, unicorns, and butterflies. It may be harder than anything you’ve ever known. However, it offers the possibility of way more beauty than you’ve ever known. There is life on the other side.
Experience, thoughts, questions? Comment below; your shared wisdom would be a gift.