I don’t think I will ever get used to the way anorexia makes my daughter lie to me. L isn’t a liar. The trust between us used to be so enduring and now if there is a choice between being true to anorexia or lying to me it is always the latter that wins.
Today L made banana muffins. I looked at the recipe which was entirely fat free and insisted she added egg yolks. Later, K and I look at the muffins. I wonder if she did as I asked. Checking the food bin I find three eggshells, each with a yolk neatly inside. When L comes downstairs I ask her if she put the egg yolks in. She says Yes with a smile. I ask her again, with a family saying “Do you swear on my life?” “Yes,” she says emphatically. My heart contracts and breaks a little. I tell her I know the truth and then tell her that her snack must be at least two muffins. J supervises her snack.
This latest lie answers my earlier question. The person who looks like L, talks like L and feels like a skeletal version of her, is not her. Ed has taken her over nearly completely. We can’t do this alone