The Thing About Eddie

Him and I are intertwined, interlinked, interlocked for as long as I can recall.

Eddy is toxic masculinity, controlling me and keeping me distanced from potential, from love, from affection – and he tells me that it is to protect me from hurt and harm.

Often in the way when I try to form connections, he makes me fear human touch – even when I crave it so much. But what if they would only laugh at me when I take my clothes off? Better just don’t get too close then.

He is also toxic femininity, judging me, basing my worth on looks alone – looks that can never be truly perfect. Telling me that he only wants me to reach my full potential – maybe tomorrow?

Eddy is there for me when I feel alone, let down, insecure. Always giving me answers I hate to hear, answers to the pain, the warmth, the fullness, the emptyness I fear to let others make me feel.

Answers I listen to more often than not, even though it hurts.

He tells me I am worth more, that I don’t deserve it, that they don’t deserve me, that I can never be like them.

Eddy makes me set goals I can’t achieve and then – more often than not – pushes me to reach them anyways.

And when I am angry with him he asks who I would be, where I would be, what I would be worth without him.

For him and I are intertwined, interlinked, interlocked for as long as I can recall – and how do you, how can I ever let go of that?

He makes me older than my years but still keeps me curled up and afraid of everything like the child he met.

He has taken more from me than I know even now.

Eddy is for ED and for me he is Bulimia.

The thing I hated most about him is how egoistic, angry, spiteful he has at times made me.

The thing I loved most about him is how he makes me take care of others when I can’t take care of myself.

Eddy is different for everyone who knows him. That’s the thing about Eddy.