Notes from a Former Self

When you look back on things you have written, are you ever struck by the wisdom of your former self?

 Both of this quotes are from letters to dear friends. 

"Recovery isn't being perfect. Recovery is falling down, getting muddy, tripping over your own feet, taking a few steps backwards, and making mistakes. It is crawling when your legs are too weak to stand. It is believing that, no matter what, you must carry on."

-me 

"Perhaps, there is no real line between recovery and E.D.... just a continum of struggle and joy. I think the fear can be a good thing, a motivating thing. It means you are aware that at this point, recovery is fragile. But out of fragility comes the greatest strength possible. I am confident in that. Don't worry about being in recovery forever: that is far too daunting. Worry about being in recovery for this moment, for this meal, for this bite. I KNOW you can do it."

- me

Let it all go...

Let it all go, my dear,  let it all go. Breathe in; breathe out. 

Don't worry about what "they" are thinking. Don't wish you were better understood. This is YOUR life. What do you need? What can you do with these shattered pieces? What is your heart screaming? 

You are loved. Even when no one understands the words you say, many love you. Remember that always. You are loved. Breathe in; breathe out. Let go... 

"Gradually, then suddenly."

In The Sun Also Rises Mike Campbell is asked how he fell into bankruptcy. He answers with three words, "Gradually, then suddenly."

Is this not how we all fall? No matter our weakness, it seems we slip and slide slowly; and then, it is a free fall.

At least that is how I feel about this relapse- and every relapse for that matter. It was a slow slide: skipping exchanges, a purge here and there, a little less of a serving, a missed meal. Then one day I woke up and it was gone. My grasp on sanity and health: gone. It happened all at once, but gradually too. Little by little I fell rapidly.

Like Petals gone from a rose...

Fear and Shame

 I have always seen the best of specialist. Although my family seemed to always believe it was those doctors' and dietitians' v job to save me, it has always been my responsibility to cure myself.  It is another tragic enigma, however, that responsibility does not always fall on those with ability. From the very beginning I was told that if i had the will, then I had the power to recover. As much as I want to believe that, I sincerely think it is a devastating fallacy. As horrible as the eating disorder has been, I honestly believe it saved me at times. If I hadn't had that purpose, that goal, that awful comfort, that taunting voice pushing me along, I believe I would have long ago give up on this life. I believe that I would have long ago fallen and stayed down. I have to admit that at times my sheer brokenness has kept me alive. There were times I had all the will to beat the disorder, but I really don't believe had the power to. At those times, doing so would have sent me into a world without an ounce of light. 

Today as I stand with my feet on the ground, more recovered than I have been since I was 15, I wonder if it will ever be possible for me to truly leave this behind...forever. I have this feeling that I am afraid to even voice. It frightens me because my whole self is screaming that it is an inevitable truth. All those I trust will insist that this is a choice, that I can change it, and that the feeling is just that: a feeling. I am too ashamed to share it, too afraid to really believe it, and too comforted by it to truly fight it. 

( I feel as though a relapse is approaching  and there is no way to avoid it; that I HAVE to go through it.) 

That whole faith thing...

I have had the aversion to Church, bible study, etc. lately. I wish I could tell you I have been diligent in my relationship with God even so. The nasty truth is, however, I have not. I don't know what is wrong with me. When I was in the hospital in February, all I did was pray. I had just emerged from a class on Nuero-theology (also called the biology of belief) and my faith was stronger than EVER. I still had issues with the church, but it didn't bother me to attend. The bible study I was going to helped so much to bring God and God's strength back into my life. 

But lately, I get upset when I even think about Church. I can't pin-point what is wrong, but something bothers me. This Sunday, I went to a church in Fredericksburg with my friend. After the praise and worship part of the service, I spent the whole sermon almost bursting into tears. Again, I have no idea why. The pastor only said one thing I disagreed with (that is the topic for another post), but I still wanted to sob or run or yell something obscene. 

What is wrong with me? 

Who always will

 "In the end we only regret the chances we didn't take, the relationships we were too scared to have, and the decisions we waited too long to make. There comes a time in your life when you realize who matters, who never did, and who always will."