At first glance it might seem that I am just a happy, normal girl who loves to bake and walk her dog. However, I have suffered with an eating disorder since I was 13. It was only in May 2014 when I realised that this Voice in my head was slowly but surely trying to kill me. And so began the long, hard, and painful journey which is recovery...
I want My Cocoa Stained Apron to be a special place...a place for reflection, memories, shared stories...and of course a little bit of cocoa-staining ;) Recovery might be the hardest thing you ever choose to do in this life. But it is also the bravest and best decision you will ever make.:)
Sunday, 2 August 2015
Why can't I just...let it go?
Why can't I let it go? Why do I still hold onto ED? After all these years, all these years of suffering. After realising the truth...after becoming fully and completely aware of just how much ED has taken away from me. After feeling a hatred so palapable, so potent which I did not even think I was capable of educing: for this thing, this monster, this demon which still sits upon my shoulder evey single day, dictating to me what I should and should not do, what I should eat and not eat, even what I should say, how I should act, what i should think.
Me: I think my legs do look a bit better, now that I have gained weight.
ED. No. You are wrong. They looked so much better this time last year, when you were skinnier.
Me. I suppose...you are right. I think they looked better then, too...
This was the conversation in my head, as I stared at myself in the long mirror in my room yesterday evening.
I just wish with all my heart, that I could just..let it go, for once and for all.
It is just so frustrating for me, as I am fully aware of the reason why I still cling to ED. Once, there was a time when ED performed for me, many functions. It had almost become a vile friend of sorts, in a way. It had a purpose and a role in my life and it made that very clear to me. ED kept me at the low weight at which I desired back then to be, ensuring that i remained skinny and underweight and thus keeping my ultimate fear of ever becoming overweight or obese a distant possibility. And there were other functions, too. It kept me immature, dependent on others to look out for me: as in my own little world I had come to feel so isolated, it was as if by turning to eating disorder behaviours I could draw attention to myself and allow myself to be noticed, for others to know I was there. ED became my stress-reliever and anxiety-soother: when the world seemed to turn against me and I could feel myself cracking, I reassured myself by turning to restriction and overexercising, drawing comfort out of the fact that no matter what happened, noone can look at me and see a chubby overweight girl. I hated every single thing about myself, I felt useless at absolutely everything. But I had ED, and ED promised it would keep me safe.
And here I am now, and to look back on those days fills me with pain, sadness and regret, and further augments my sense of self-hatred. How could I be so stupid...?
And the thing is, of course, is that now, things have changed, and I want recovery, I no longer want to be the immature, dependent, stick-thin girl who cannot function for herself and constantly needs others to look out for her and care for her. i no longer need ED behaviours to comfort me, to give me a sense of achievement or reassurance. I no longer want my identity to be defined by an ED.
But this one thing remains with me, my greatest ever nemesis, the vice which, if I dont learn to control and overpower it, could well be my downfall. The desire to be skinny. That is still there, that has not changed. And I know - I know, with every single fibre of my being - that I CANNOT give in to it. For if I do, I know all too well that the consequences could ultimately be devastating.
I just don't... understand.
this is what gets me down the most, which makes me want to kick myself, scream at myself until my throat is hoarse and angry tears are running unchecked down my face. I do not understand WHY I want to be skinny. Because I think skinny is pretty? No, that is not it. I do not think skinny is pretty, attractive, sexy, or beautiful. And neither did I ever like my body or shape when I was at my skinniest, despite everything ED made me do and think to make it that way. I used to look into the mirror and feel the visible bones, and feel repulsed, disgusted, full of loathing. Then why? WHY do I want to be a bag of bones??? Sometimes it feels like I am going crazy; more often than that, I actually believe that I am. I just want to let it go. I hate ED with all my heart. I just know that I have to fight, fight this thing with every single breath, every beat of my heart.