How to Disappear, Then Reappear

My eating disorder obliterated me. It shoved me off my trajectory and tricked me into thinking where it placed me was where I was meant to be. From the age of 16 to 33, I unwittingly wore the eating disorder as my only skin. A blanket whose only job was to keep me from freezing. It was a lifeline, something I could hide behind. I was so warm in the false security that I had not realized that I had disappeared completely. 

When you morph into something slowly over so many years it goes unnoticed. As my body disappeared, so did my identity, slowly leaching into the ground, away from my roots where it was needed most. At the time if you had brought this to my attention, I would have said it was a small price to pay to be thin. I would have handed my soul to see my ribs in the mirror. Maybe I did. 

Knowing what I know now, I would have tried anything to get the attention of doctors. Of course, as a fat person ‘losing weight’, I was cheered on by my doctor and fellow peers. Because fat people can only exist in our society if we are constantly trying to lose weight. Then, I was happy for the non-attention burrowing deeper and deeper into the heady spiral. 

I spent a long time scrabbling on my hands and knees in the dark, trying to get back to the path I had started on. Trying to discover who I was on track to be before my identity was stolen from me. 

In this warmth, I reappear. A dam has burst, and who I was meant to be washes over me. It surprises some people, even me. But I have found my way back, and it is the most glorious revelation. 

Author's Bio

Caitlin Gauthier is a library worker and voracious reader. Her only goal in life is to pet as many 
dogs as possible.