I remember a time when enjoying a bowl like this would have filled me with guilt, crippling anxiety, and the consumption of which would undoubtedly have led to a purging episode. I remember a time when I didn't want to eat anything that didn't have the nutritional facts listed because that was such a total loss of control I couldn't reconcile it. I usually don't talk in much detail about my experience with ED, but he started coming around pretty early in life. It happened for the first time when I was in the fifth grade, continued throughout middle school, and when my dad died, it went rampant. The floor had literally dropped out from beneath me, and the only thing that seemed within control was food. I hit some pretty horrifying personal lows during the following years and the path to recovery was (and is) one filled with indescribable joy and indescribable sorrow, but a life where ED doesn't consume me has been worth fighting for. It's been fifteen years since ED first appeared in my life, and three since he spent a significant amount of time around, but I would be lying if I said he doesn't still poke his head in sometimes (and I deal with residual physical side effects on a regular basis). Thankfully, when he does, I have the tools to kick him to the curb. I don't about this for sympathy, but rather because I wish there were people being raw and honest about this when I was in the thick of it. I wish I had known I wasn't alone, and that recovery would quite literally give me a new lease on life. If you are walking through your darkest days right now, carrying that heavy load, please please know there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and there is a life where your relationship with food can be one of nourishment, not control and fear. Keep fighting the good fight, you have so many people cheering you on.