Portrait of a Manipulator

RHONDA [17]

When anorexia first became my companion, she appeared a small, slightly subservient shadow. She didn’t seem that important in her own right. Overwhelmed by her side-kick, bulimia, anorexia seemed to not have a life of her own. She seemed such a pathetic creature that all I wanted to do was ignore her. By refusing to acknowledge or even name her, I convinced myself that I would avoid condemning myself to being her associate.

If asked what anorexia looked like, I couldn’t say. This is because anorexia has been so cunning and manipulative that she has taken on my own form. She came to me, apparently anxious to win a friend and promised to to take on all the negative aspects of my life and, with my permission, to take care of them. By taking on these parts of me, she then became my darker form. She became all the bitter, vindictive and negative aspects of my character. In doing this, she promised me that I would be free to enjoy my life without worrying or feeling guilty because I wasn’t a ‘good person’. Now, I feel that she has become such an integral part of me that by facing up to her and pushing her away, I would also be cutting off a part of myself. Anorexia has left me my eyes- to a certain extent- in that I can see her and her ridiculousness but she has her anorexic hand gripped so tightly around my heart and she won’t let go.

She makes you believe in her. She makes you such hopeful promises. Although my eyes struggle to tell me to reject her logic- she has her grip on the place that counts. Anorexia makes me believe that it is her that has helped this year be such a good one in other aspects of my life. I write this while my eyes tell me she is only allowing me to enjoy this success until she feels confident that she can take everything from me in one painful squeeze.

Anorexia won’t let me disown her. She reminds me that she is all the negative parts of myself which she took upon herself. She has manipulated herself into a position where I owe her loyalty as penance for my own lack of responsibility. In being responsible for her creation, I too am ridiculousness. Anorexia demands allegiance through a ceaseless taxing of your flesh, energy and self-love. She is a cruel, vindictive and merciless bitch. How many pounds of my flesh will she take before my debt is paid off?

Since I have taken steps to defy anorexia, she has been nagging me viciously. While tightening my belt, she has been berating me for accepting the League’s anti-anorexic t-shirt that crosses the ‘t’ out of ‘diet’, leaving ‘die’. You should have heard her when David asked me if I would like one. She kept me hesitating, telling me I wouldn’t have enough strength to ever wear it. “Why waste it by accepting it?” She uses the same kind of argument over food- only the subject has been changed, here eating. Ever since I’ve said, “Yes, I’ll wear it”, she still hasn’t given up. Quietly persistent, she keeps saying, “YOU WON’T WEAR IT!!’ It will be a pleasure to shock her into silence by putting it on. It will also be a step to reclaiming my self-will back from her.

Running true to form, she is putting me down for any battles I lose to her. In the last week especially, she and her destructively bulimia, have made every effort to make any efforts I make appear ineffectual. Both of them are fighting hard now. They know I am trying to find the strength to take them on.

Anorexia gets her strength from my misery. The more misery I feel, the more negative I am, the more I give to her form and the less I keep for my self. She seeks to build on this by refusing anything that could nurture any goodness. her worst trick has been to stop me caring. Time and time again, she has almost shattered my will to live, my belief in myself and my belief in my friends and family. She has distorted some of the most important things in my life and made them appear small and irrelevant. The more I see of her, the more I become sickened by how she manipulated me into a trap of self-betrayal and self-deception.

Anorexia wants everything all for herself. She is the world’s best con artist and that is, in fact, her most dangerous aspect. Once she has you in her grasp, she transforms herself from being a weak and subservient shadow to a powerful and domineering dictator. Despite all of this, I cannot hate her. At the moment, hating her would not only signify hating part of myself, it would also mean giving her more negativity to add to her form. Loving her is impossible. She is too destructive to know the meaning of love. The best I can do to fight her is to regain a sense of my own self-worth. By doing so, I will regain my will to fight her and my ability to endure on my own personal strength and no longer being reliant on her. In doing this, I can hopefully get back my self and make her both unnecessary and insignificant. And that is what would hurt her the most. Anorexia wants to be the most important thing in my life but I NEED TO BE!PORTRAIT OF A MANIPULATOR, by Rhonda, aged l7

When anorexia first became my companion, she appeared a small, slightly subservient shadow. She didn’t seem that important in her own right. Overwhelmed by her side-kick, bulimia, anorexia seemed to not have a life of her own. She seemed such a pathetic creature that all I wanted to do was ignore her. By refusing to acknowledge or even name her, I convinced myself that I would avoid condemning myself to being her associate.

If asked what anorexia looked like, I couldn’t say. This is because anorexia has been so cunning and manipulative that she has taken on my own form. She came to me, apparently anxious to win a friend and promised to to take on all the negative aspects of my life and, with my permission, to take care of them. By taking on these parts of me, she then became my darker form. She became all the bitter, vindictive and negative aspects of my character. In doing this, she promised me that I would be free to enjoy my life without worrying or feeling guilty because I wasn’t a ‘good person’. Now, I feel that she has become such an integral part of me that by facing up to her and pushing her away, I would also be cutting off a part of myself. Anorexia has left me my eyes- to a certain extent- in that I can see her and her ridiculousness but she has her anorexic hand gripped so tightly around my heart and she won’t let go.

She makes you believe in her. She makes you such hopeful promises. Although my eyes struggle to tell me to reject her logic- she has her grip on the place that counts. Anorexia makes me believe that it is her that has helped this year be such a good one in other aspects of my life. I write this while my eyes tell me she is only allowing me to enjoy this success until she feels confident that she can take everything from me in one painful squeeze.

Anorexia won’t let me disown her. She reminds me that she is all the negative parts of myself which she took upon herself. She has manipulated herself into a position where I owe her loyalty as penance for my own lack of responsibility. In being responsible for her creation, I too am ridiculousness. Anorexia demands allegiance through a ceaseless taxing of your flesh, energy and self-love. She is a cruel, vindictive and merciless bitch. How many pounds of my flesh will she take before my debt is paid off?

Since I have taken steps to defy anorexia, she has been nagging me viciously. While tightening my belt, she has been berating me for accepting the League’s anti-anorexic t-shirt that crosses the ‘t’ out of ‘diet’, leaving ‘die’. You should have heard her when David asked me if I would like one. She kept me hesitating, telling me I wouldn’t have enough strength to ever wear it. “Why waste it by accepting it?” She uses the same kind of argument over food- only the subject has been changed, here eating. Ever since I’ve said, “Yes, I’ll wear it”, she still hasn’t given up. Quietly persistent, she keeps saying, “YOU WON’T WEAR IT!!’ It will be a pleasure to shock her into silence by putting it on. It will also be a step to reclaiming my self-will back from her.

Running true to form, she is putting me down for any battles I lose to her. In the last week especially, she and her destructively bulimia, have made every effort to make any efforts I make appear ineffectual. Both of them are fighting hard now. They know I am trying to find the strength to take them on.

Anorexia gets her strength from my misery. The more misery I feel, the more negative I am, the more I give to her form and the less I keep for my self. She seeks to build on this by refusing anything that could nurture any goodness. her worst trick has been to stop me caring. Time and time again, she has almost shattered my will to live, my belief in myself and my belief in my friends and family. She has distorted some of the most important things in my life and made them appear small and irrelevant. The more I see of her, the more I become sickened by how she manipulated me into a trap of self-betrayal and self-deception.

Anorexia wants everything all for herself. She is the world’s best con artist and that is, in fact, her most dangerous aspect. Once she has you in her grasp, she transforms herself from being a weak and subservient shadow to a powerful and domineering dictator. Despite all of this, I cannot hate her. At the moment, hating her would not only signify hating part of myself, it would also mean giving her more negativity to add to her form. Loving her is impossible. She is too destructive to know the meaning of love. The best I can do to fight her is to regain a sense of my own self-worth. By doing so, I will regain my will to fight her and my ability to endure on my own personal strength and no longer being reliant on her. In doing this, I can hopefully get back my self and make her both unnecessary and insignificant. And that is what would hurt her the most. Anorexia wants to be the most important thing in my life but I NEED TO BE!