So it’s National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. (which *coincidentally* smacks right into Lent, but I actually don’t even want to touch that)
Are we all *aware* of the *eating disorders*? Are we all *eating food*?
Then my job here is done! Okey-dokey! Insensitive Girl… awayyy! Vrrra-vrooom.
(Insensitive Girl drives a diesel-emo kid hybrid Hummer.)
Anyway, some deeply thoughtful types put the worst fliers ever out in the dining hall to bring attention to this important week. I promptly scribbled bullshit all over a couple of them.
I feel bad for the people who have to write these things – the temptation to commit deliberate sabotage must be overpowering. I wondered for a couple seconds if that’s what happened here, but they seem just a little too earnest and personal to be brain abuse:
“I will spend less time in front of mirrors – all they do is make me feel uncomfortable and self-conscious as I focus on each part of my body.”
We all hate the way we look, and we always will, forever and ever. *Obviously.* Therefore, this person suggests that we bolster our self-esteem by doing weird stuff to our mirrors and frantically reminding ourselves that looks don’t matter. Writing lists is good. Like, we could write lists of all the really hard books we’ve read or something.
I don’t exactly feel that this is a safe or effective strategy to recommend to serious depressed young women. A person who invests that much in her body image is just not going to be capable of writing off her physical appearance as unimportant. Telling an anorexic that how she looks doesn’t matter is like snapping at someone with PTSD because that sudden loud noise in the dark was *just the cat*. The thing is way too loaded to brush off that way.
And anyway the logical endpoint of completely disassociating your self-esteem from your body is packing off to a Zen monastery, and the Women’s Resource Center is just *clearly* not prepared to properly counsel people on that at this point in time.
Myself, I am confident in how the ancient Greeks would totally have been all over me to pose for sculptures of Hestia. Because no one ever suspects *Hestia*.