Last night I sat and watched a documentary on Eating Disorders. I listened to men and women talk about how they lost themselves to their disorders and in the end how they found themselves again. All but one seemed to be either firmly in recovery or considered themselves to be completely recovered. These individuals were from the generation prior to mine and I suppose it was nice to see that after all that lost time they had, they were living lives which were now good for them. It should have been inspiring but I think at the moment, I am too passed being inspired or too tired for it. However that ‘one’ who still lives in the grip of her illness continues to haunt me. She is everything I don’t want to be. A woman who in her 50’s still cannot see clearly enough to find a way out once and for all. I imagine she is one of the 20 odd % in the UK which you could say was chronically unwell. The idea of being in the position of saying to someone I have struggled with my Anorexia for 40+ years fills me with terror. The thing is though it is so easily done. Time just slips away, doesn’t it? One minute your 15 and everything hurts and everything is chaos but it’s fine because Anorexia is just passing storm, not something that will still be around when you actually become an adult. Then you are an adult or at least the beginnings of an adult and you can’t quite figure out how that happened. It’s like you blinked and the years flew by. I suppose what I am saying is that I am very aware lately that I can’t keep continuing to waste time on this disorder because sooner or later, I’m going to look up and my entire life will be gone and all I will have is this….Anorexia….a number on a scale that means everything and nothing and proves bugger all.
I can carry on with this. I can continue to push my body and expect it to still marginally function which to an extent, I’m sure it will. I can let it carry on doing the damage that it is doing to my brain which is arguably worse than what it is doing to my body because there is nothing I can do to soothe that. I have to just kind of sit back and watch as my thoughts tear me apart emotionally, rendering my socially inept. In short, I can muddle through life, permanently terrified, depressed, anxious, lying to people and finding that the only thing I can bear but also can’t is being alone.
I could just end it now. I think about living like this, with this heaviness inside of me that feels as though I can’t escape and it brings me to my knees. I don’t even want to imagine what loosing the next 10 or 20 years of my life to this would look like. I could make it stop. I could put suicide back on the table. It would hurt a lot of people, I know that but also maybe they too could find some peace in the cycle of restoration and relapse which it is beginning to seem that all my life is. The flaw in this one though is that I don’t really want to die.
I could try again. Figure out where I am supposed to get some energy from and go after Anorexia for what feels like the millionth time. Chase it out of my life rather than it chasing me. I could fight it and not listen to it and break all of it’s stupid rules. I could eat and restore weight and not give a damn and listen to that voice that knows – and I mean knows – that my size or shape doesn’t mean a thing. I could recover and find that it is amazing to not have the noise in my head which continually tells me to hate everything that I am.
Those are my options and even though option 2 is as I’ve pointed out flawed, I’m really not sure which option is the most likely at the moment. I want it to be 3 but something is standing in my way and I’m pretty sure that something is me. I have no idea how to get around that…around me. It is not supposed to be this difficult.
I hope your day has been good to you.