Repeatedly I have come back to this blank page with the hope that all the thoughts that are tripping me up in my head can be let out and provide some sense of relief or release, yet for an unknown reason that hasn’t been happening so easily. It seems as though everything goes up in smoke whenever I get close and I cannot grasp how to form even the simplest of sentences. Some people tell me it is related to my eating disorder and the slowing down of my cognitive abilities which quietly plead that I need to give my body more to work with, it’s possible that the reason is actually because I am giving it more and the mind needs time to catch up and stop the confusion of an unpredictable intake. It is a challenge to stay focused on my work or classes, motivated in my recovery and optimistic when my mood turns dark. It is tiring to smile or hold a conversation or make myself appear as the person that people expect me to be. Sometimes I want to walk away from it all and then it hits me that I have been trying to escape for years and at every corner there was still the me I was running from already waiting.
So there is nothing left but to go through it this time…
I am trying to be here. I am trying to be thankful to be alive, thankful that my lungs still fill with air and my heart still staggers on despite how unfairly I treat it, aware that a time could come when it will get weary with my bullshit and abandon me. I am trying to nourish myself and be compassionate and that is difficult to know how to do as it’s something I’ve never done before and as I try the memories of everything I put it through float to the surface.
There was a time when I was completely wreckless with my body, pushing it to limits it wasn’t meant to go to and daring it to break, at times begging for it to fail me as though it would set me free from a world I found too intolerable. I can close my eyes and remember the marks that I made, how I clawed at my face believing that if I could rip it off then I would be safe. I remember the cuts that took up too much space and the bruises that wrapped around my neck or hid under my fringe that made me too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. There are beds that I remember but no faces or names, my brain fried from drugs and sluggish from alcohol. There are broken bones and organs trying to survive regardless of the poisons thrown into its blood supply. My body had been abused but what I was doing was worse. I was blinded by a loathing that stemmed from the belief that it had betrayed me and I could not move past the need to blame it.
There has never been a time that I felt like I could live comfortably in my own skin because it seemed like a hostile and foreign place. It was almost as though the only way I could survive was to make sure that I was the one who was capable of doing the most damage, and that in doing so there was a hope that I could make myself so terrified by my actions that anyone else’s seemed timid in comparison. I’m not sure of how I ever reached that logic. Obviously in time that lack of care disappeared to the point where I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care that I’d wake up on the floor by the toilet after passing out from purging or that my blood pressure was pathetic and my blood sugars were barely enough to keep me conscious. When people told me to think about what I was doing to myself, how one day I’d suffer for it, it didn’t seem to matter because I never thought I would actually be around that long.
There are times when I wonder if I miss that time? Do I long for the stupidity and contempt I held in a former life? Do I ever question if it would be easier to go back? Of course I do. It isn’t that I miss it, it’s just I don’t know how to do this…eating, resting, hoping. They are all alien concepts. My brain is trying re-configure itself to this new way of being but it is not happening as smoothly as I would like.
I feel my will being bent to the eating disorder these last couple of days, the panic over my increases truly starting to sink in as the voices in my head grow louder by the second. More than anything I am trying to remember every reason I decided to choose this path and not crash and burn on the other one but they are difficult to grasp onto…but I am not worried about recapturing them because I know I will, I just hope I don’t lose too much ground in the process. I have to be more careful with myself and I think I have to accept that as much as the eating disorder takes up a huge amount of my energy it is not the only battle I am fighting and I have to save energy for that too.
I am a human that hurts easily and I need to learn how to not let that be my undoing.