Last night I stood in the kitchen having a smoke whilst trying to still the stream of thoughts in my mind that never want to be quiet when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. For a moment I couldn’t recognise myself and it was almost as if I was looking at a stranger that I knew but couldn’t quite place. When it clicked it was me I felt this overwhelming experience of sadness…sadness for the woman that I was in that instant when I couldn’t see it was me and how tired she looked. What had I done to her? To me? What had I put her through and why?
I wanted to hold on to that but then reality (or distortion) slammed right back into me and all I could then see above anything else was the swell of my stomach, the rise of my chest and how much I wanted to make it all go away. How could it still matter when logically it doesn’t matter? I’ve been chasing the same thing for longer than I care to remember. I have clawed and twisted and manipulated my body into ways that it was never meant to be. The tiredness of that thought is mind-blowing if I really think about it. Is my health, happiness, strength and cognitive abilities all worth giving up for in order to have a body that is nothing more than flesh and a skeleton? No! It can’t be. That can’t be the thing that defines my life and it certainly can not be how it ends either. Because that’s what will happen. Eventually. The body wants to survive but there are limitations.
I am genuinely making an effort right now to challenge myself and increase my diet. I really want to get better and reach the end of this chapter rather than dragging it out for any longer. It’s just I panic at times and then I want to undo it. Then I feel guilty. Then shame. Then anger…Do you notice how there are no positive emotions attached to the eating disorder anymore? You reach a certain point and it becomes a fight to figure out what causes the least amount of pain or discomfort rather than the things that make you smile or just content. Surely that would be enough evidence for me to simply put Anorexia in a box and call it a day. If only it was that simple, although admittedly there is still a bit of me that things (or hopes) that it is.
I’m just trying and wanting to be ok with myself. That is all.
This post is not a negative one, far from it in fact. It is however one that is a little bit sad for me to write. Acknowledging and accepting that I have hurt myself in such a way, that I have spent so much time hating this person I was rather than showing her any piece of kindness just makes me want to ask for some kind of forgiveness or grieve for the person I never let myself be.
There are some definite positive things happening though including a flat viewing tomorrow. I really want it to work out ok and let myself begin the process of resettling myself into my life again. It even has a loft space which can be used as a study and so my dream of having my own library might be realised sooner than I thought. Not that I eve need an excuse to buy new books but this will certainly be a good one. Today has been a little bit more settled at my parents and it helped that I cooked dinner tonight which helped ease some of the anxiety that I’ve been feeling. I have my appointment at the unit tomorrow though which means getting weighed. It’s never a fun thing but I’ve come to see how important my sessions are in keeping me focused on my recovery and weight restoration. I hate admitting that I need more help with certain things than I feel comfortable accepting but right now that’s just the way it is. It won’t always be like this and that is a thought that I must keep holding on to.
I hope you are being good to yourselves