I don’t like doughnuts. I find them greasy and mostly unsatisfying.

I wonder if I’d have developed an affection for them if I hadn’t developed an eating disorder. Foods like doughnuts are forbidden. They’re empty calories that will definitely make you fatter than you are. You eat a doughnut when you have an eating disorder, and your brain will lecture you about that personal failure for days.

Eating a doughnut when you have an eating disorder is one of the worst things you can do.

We won’t talk about chocolate.

Eating at all is frowned upon, but ingesting something that might taste good or be enjoyable is a definite no-no. Unless you plan to throw it up and/or exercise excessively while committing to berating yourself for your failure as a human being forever.

The early days of an eating disorder focus the disgust on “empty” calories, much like any diet. Pretty soon, however, that morphs into disgust over any calories. Eating is a failure when one is as fat as the eating disorder maintains.

I suspect the hatred of the body is one of the last things to leave. It isn’t helped by the fact that western society encourages the hatred of women’s bodies, especially ones that aren’t childlike.

(I’m aware that people other than women suffer from eating disorders, but women still make up the majority of cases, and it’s the most fatal of mental illnesses. I feel proud of the winning).

I ran up to the corner store first thing today. In my pyjamas. My mother would be so proud. I was out of Diet Coke, and that’s my coffee, so going was required. I hate nighttime-me. She told me no Diet Coke would be fine. She’s such a liar. At any rate, my local corner store also sells an assortment of baked goods, delivered fresh every morning.

Who can say “no” to a fresh apple fritter?

An apple fritter isn’t a doughnut. The dough is similar, but instead of treating it nicely, like you would with a doughnut, you hack the dough into tiny pieces before smushing them back together until they’re fritter-sized. A bit of deep frying and you have twisty deliciousness.

I bought two, one for me and one for my son.

Deep-fried dough for breakfast is, for me, no small accomplishment. Especially since I’ll be keeping it down and not vomiting up breakfast for being wrong or fattening.

I still struggle with my eating disorder brain. That section isn’t happy about doughnuts for breakfast. Unfortunately for her, he has less sway over my decision-making these days. She’s still there, complaining and criticizing constantly, but I notice her less. She’s quieter than she used to be.

Except when it comes to my face, but that’s another story.

Her voice used to be everything, it was all I could attend to. Now, she’s faint. Thin, though that doesn’t seem to be making her happy.

But recovery is taking so much time. I want it better and faster. I want it now. You have to be careful. The ill brain will co-opt almost anything – she’s even tried to co-opt recovery. I’ve resisted, though I’m impatient for the end. It’s been seven years since my last inpatient treatment. It will be three years (in October) since I’ve thrown up.

When do I get to be free?

Then again, the eating disorder is forty-three years old. That’s a lot of connections to break. This is the true secret of recovery, at least for me. Unwire the eating disorder from every nook and cranny before tossing it.

Recovery takes patience. It’s too bad for me that it isn’t innate.

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