A writing group for people with eating disorders

I need a lawyer, not pills.  If you’ve been abused, do you need a pill to get rid of the abuser?  Will that work?  No, it will turn you into a zombie and the abuser will find it easier to keep on abusing.  You need empowerment, not pills.

I’ve been told I’m only inventing the abuse, yet there are others who have been abused by the System, too.  Let’s all get together and talk about it, eh?

Let’s all of us who have been abused in “eating disorders care” get together and talk about it.  There is no empowerment group out there right now, but I intend to start one.

For one thing, I want to start a writing group for people with eating disorders.  This will be a start. Writing is empowerment.  Distance is no problem as folks can get skyped in.  The only requirement for membership is first-hand lived experience with an eating disorder and desire for membership.  I will be able to secure a space for free where we can write quietly.  This will not be a therapy group.  It will be a writing group.  I have an MFA in creative writing, earned in 2009 from Goddard College (which the docs claimed I was incapable of doing, by the way).

I keep sending e-mails and  making calls.  Hardly anyone responds.  I’ve lost a lot of friends.  Well, if you’ve ever tried suicide, you know you tend to lose friends when that happens, that’s the deal, and I just attempted to starve myself to death, another word for that being anorexia nervosa, so I suppose that’s why I’m being dumped by so many people.  It’s not particularly nice.

When I arrived at the hospital (on my way to the grave practically) they asked me why I starved myself.  I said, “I starved myself because nobody gives a shit about me.”  After that, people kinda proved this to be true.  I got dumped by people I thought were my friends.  Others heavily criticized me and put me down every way they could.  I might as well have been called a sinner.  A criminal.  I sure was treated like one while being treated medically.  I might as well have been in handcuffs.

Okay, so I’ve been shit on.  That’s the breaks.  But it might also be an opportunity to start life over again.  I’m alive.  Kinda amazing.  A lot of those doctors that years ago, pronounced me incurable are now dead.  They don’t stand a chance.  Nyah nyah.

Feedback and comments welcome!