They said it would get easier. That if I just gave it time then eventually I would learn how to get used to it. The truth is though that this body I now live in feels more alien than I can ever articulate. I keep waiting for the hate to lessen and the gratitude to appear but I’m not sure that it’s coming. It’s getting harder to stay where I am and not see any sense of peace on the horizon. I wonder how much longer I can sustain this and what’s more I worry that it’s getting to the point where I don’t think I want to.
I know it’s been a while since I last wrote a post on here. In fact I haven’t been writing much at all. Part of me thought that by holding on to the quiet, I could keep denying how hard it is to get through my day without turning myself inside out. Yet these last couple of weeks have shaken me a little, not because I’m engaging in behaviours but because it’s getting harder to talk myself out of it. I don’t want to go back to the life that I was living but if I can’t figure out how to carry on living in this body at the size that I am then I don’t know how I can continue. I really wanted to be this positive recovery story but I’m not sure that I am. Yesterday I was at a training event and one of the participants asked me at the end if I thought I would ever be completely recovered or if I will have to learn how to manage it? I considered his question for a while because how do I deliver a story of hope when the truth is that managing is probably the best I could ever hope for? In the end I said something along the lines that I think there will always be elements of the eating disorder that cling on to me but I can accept that. Perhaps that was a lie or a very big stretch of the truth because I’m not sure that I am able to accept it.
Do you know what’s harder still though is that there is hardly anyone I can talk to about this. I have great friends but there is only one that I would trust this information with. Part of it is because I don’t want people to see that I am still struggling and the other part is that on the outside I look fine so therefore there isn’t an issue…at least that’s what people assume. No matter how educated people are, they still think that weight is the indicator for how you’re doing.
I want to not care about it. After all, didn’t I say for so long that all I wanted was a healthy body? That I was prepared to do anything to achieve that no matter how much it hurt me mentally? I just don’t think I realised that this intensity of hate would last this long or be this sharp. Sometimes it feels like a physical pain and I can’t quite catch my breath but I have to keep smiling and acting like it’s all alright. I can barely look in a mirror. Sometimes I don’t even want to watch TV because I get wrapped up in the actresses and how perfect they all look. This has never really been that much of an issue for me. My image has been something that I wanted to erase not change in the years leading up to now. Yet there has been a shift and it’s not that I’m aiming to be pretty or anything like that, I just want to see someone who I find acceptable when I look in the mirror rather than someone who is excessive.
Of course I am trying to fight my way through it logically. I remind myself that no matter what my weight has been in the past, I’ve never been happy with it. Losing weight did not make me like myself even a little bit so what makes me think this time would be any different? The worrying part is that this week I have convinced myself that this time would be different. I could do it, I could lose weight and stay in control and be fine. Is this Anorexia just trying to screw with my head again and find a way back in? Or is it true?
Sometimes I feel so inexplicably empty and wrong and lost that the Eating Disorder does feel like a logical answer to all that. It’s not. I know that.
I start Uni again next week. It’s been a year of waiting for it to begin and I am really looking forward to it. Yet I’m also scared because I want it so badly and it’s never been a good thing for me to want something so much. It has more potential to hurt me. I can’t help but think I’m going to screw up again. I am so tired of doing that. I know that if I want that, if I want my degree and to live me life than I can’t keep running back to the Anorexia. Why is this disorder so damn powerful?
There is no moral to this post. These are random thoughts stringed together in the hope of making myself less confused or accountable somehow.
I don’t know what to do guys. I don’t know how to accept myself, not even a little bit.
I hope your day has been kind to you.