It has definitely been your longer than average weekend this week and I have had far too much empty time. For the past two days I have gone backwards and forwards, considering IP and then completely dismissing it. I don’t think I’m any closer to coming to a decision. I’ve noticed though that the times that I do decide I want to go is when I’m physically struggling more. Every time I get breathless for no reason or there’s that rushing in the head and the room starts to spin then I think I can’t do this anymore. I tell myself I will do anything to make it stop. Yet there are the times when I’m looking in a mirror or my body starts to feel a little less painful then I think I’m being ridiculous, over-dramatic and far too huge to have even thought it was a possible option in the first place. I know that the thing that is holding me back from making this choice though is the fear element. I’m afraid of what they’re going to challenge me with and I worry that I can’t do it. I don’t want to fail. When I told this to my therapist the other day after admitting that the reason I didn’t want to go wasn’t because I didn’t think it would help but because I was scared, she reminded me that I had done it before. Those words didn’t help but at the end after I had been weighed (It’s at the top of my spine so she only see’s it when I step on the scale) and we’d sat back down she told me that the words of my tattoo would be a good way to live. My tattoo for those of you who don’t know reads “My fear will not define me”. She is right and I in the last couple of years have let myself lose the meaning behind them. I have let my fear define me and I have let it reduce me. That was never my intention. I do not expect to never be afraid but I cannot keep letting it keep me in this place which will only ever damage me. Why is it always so much harder in practice though?
Anyway my family called in to my place today and I said that I was thinking that I might go back. They think it’s a good idea. I think they’re so tired of watching me lose my life to this that they don’t want me to lose anything else. That’s another thing that’s so different this time. I have shit to lose. I have things that matter to me and last time I didn’t. I walked in essentially dead in every way that mattered…emotionally, mentally, I was without hope or dreams or ambitions. I am not that person who was dead anymore. I am not her. I am not hopeless. I am not prepared to die for this even if at times I want to. I have to believe that I can get better because it was something that even when I was most motivated I still doubted and all that made me do was cheat myself. Before I left I’d already started screwing around with my meal plan thinking that I knew better. That was bullshit; although I am kind of in awe of how I managed to come to the conclusion that I knew more than the dieticians, doctors and nurses combined. If I go back, this is it…full commitment. No screwing around. No pretending or hiding. No half-hearted attempts and me trying to convince everyone that I’m doing my best. If I go back then I’m going to have to let Anorexia go.
I have a feeling this is going to be a long week.
I hope your weekend has treated you well.