I won’t correct you, because I don’t know if you are right or wrong. Perhaps you are a casual drive-by anon and that is why you haven’t seen and read about my agonizing struggles with trying to “recover” from, or better put, minimize the propensity of, my perpetuating eating disorder. It serves as an enormous and necessary coping mechanism for me that I rely heavily on right now to stay alive. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have it. That doesn’t mean I still don’t hate it, feel it is ruining my life & health, or that I’m not disgusted with myself for what I have become. If you would like me to expand on this, tell me. Or read any of my posts tagged “bulimia”.

I most certainly do not share everything with my husband. This is not to say that there is a flaw in our relationship. I feel incredibly fortunate to have the close, intimate bond we do. I posted a quote from Dexter once that said something to the effect of, “Everyone lives 3 lives: their public life, their private life, and their secret life.” I challenge anyone to tell me this is not true to some degree. Back to your point, because it is so serious is exactly why I don’t tell him. I don’t think he could handle it (which is not fair of me to judge), but moreover I do not WANT him to have to handle it. It is bad enough that he married me knowing I have an incurable, progressive disease (MS). I am already asking him to accept so much of me. I love him, and I want to protect him from the ugliness that is inside me. Why would I burden him with another problem that can’t be solved? I suffer best alone.

Thanks for the interest & questions.