You never showed one shard of remorse, one single drop of pity...
It was as if I was being hunted...hunted by a voice, inside my very own head. Bent on my own destruction. Because that's what you wanted, Ed. You wanted to destroy me..
But now it's time for me to e the stronger one...
And you, you are the one who is going to be hunted.
And I won't stop or give up till I have sought you out and destroyed you completely.
We cannot survive with each other, you and I...
This, is where our relationship ends.
Just some of my thoughts, on my way home from Dublin yesterday evening, sitting curled up on the half-empty, soporifically warm train, alone with just my thoughts and my little writing journal.
And before I knew it, I had began to write: transcribing those thoughts onto paper, another blog post already beginning to take form within my mind.
It had been a truly lovely, beautiful day. One which had challenged me, in many respects: but the fact that I had overcome that challenge, filled me with a renewed sense of hope; a strength which lightened my heart and lightened the heavy weights pressing down upon my shoulders. And it was a day upon which I had learned things, important things. Important things about myself, my recovery, and ED.
Yesterday, I went up to Dublin to see one of my closest and dearest friends who has, particularly since my relapse, been so, so supportive to me in regard to my recovery, and who has been consistently and unfalteringly stuck by me in my darkest and most lowest of days, when everything appeared so bleak and hopeless and futile, and all I wanted to do was curl myself up into a ball on the floor and close my eyes in the hope that I would never again wake up.In those moments, she was always there for me; even though she lives miles away and her life and work schedule are busy and jam-packed. But yet, despite all that, she has never failed to be there for me to offer a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, heartfelt and supportive advice and encouragement. A gentle, but firm push in the right direction, whenever she feels that I need a bit more than to get me back on the right track. And one of the many, many things that makes her so special to me, is her honesty, her openness, her sincerity. I know that when she tells me something, that something will consist of the pure, unabridged, simple truth: nothing added, nothing concealed. Nothing is ever left unsaid between us.
Prior to Thursday, I had messaged my friend asking her what times of the morning would suit her for me to drop in, and we had settled on around 10 am, depending on whether or not my train got in on time (the chances of which were, of course, extremely unlikely: Iarnoid Eireann do their utmost best, of course, but I can't honestly say I remember the last time I got to my destination no less than 5 minutes late, unfortunately... ;) ). 10am...a time which, for me, marked a very important time of the day: the time when I would usually have my morning hot chocolate.. ;)
Now, I know that, for my non-Irish readers anyway, Insomnia coffee chain is something you will most likely not be familiar with. Anyway, I'm not going to make this post an advert for Insomnia or anything, but what I am going to say here is: if you, like me, are a bit of a self-confessed hot chocaholic, and you happen ever to visit Ireland some time and you pass an Insomnia coffee shop: just please GO IN THERE. Because their hot chocolate simply is... made in HEAVEN. I think they must use real melted milk choc in it or something (correction: I can confirm, that they do...I watched the lady who served me on Thursday ladle a generous spoonful of divine, satiny, glossy melted choc into the cup before she added in the milk...) and the resulting concoction is a smooth, gloriously creamy, indulgently thick hot chocolate which, quite simply, is enough to melt the heart of any diehard chocaholic, as effectively as the chocolate shards sprinkled over the top of the cup are melted and liquified by the hot milk... ;)
Anyway, to go back the original topic of this long-winded post. Now as I was siting there texting my friend, an all too familiar debate of sorts was currently ongoing in my head. Me, my own voice: and the voice of my eating disorder, of course...
Em. Get a hot choc before you go up to the apartment. Insomnia, Em. Your favourite! You've fought hard this week. You deserve it...
No. NO. No, you do not deserve it. Why would you deserve it? And besides...you drink too much hot choc. You need to give it a break, Em. And you'll save a it of bob by not having one. Don't, Em. You'll be grand. Not sticking to the meal plan for just one day won't harm you.
No. No..I want to stick to my meal plan. I want to maintain the good work that I've started, now. And sure, what difference will three euro make? It'll be worth it, Em. Your readers will be proud. You can do this, Em. You can. Don't - listen - to - the Voice...
No, no, NO! You shall not have it! No, you greedy, selfish girl! Sugar addict! You can't go without one hot choc for just one single bloody morning - ?!
I felt a sudden surge of angry desperation. I was so, so tired, of this. This noise, this constant exchange of heated, furious dictations, in my head. And suddenly I had grasped onto that sense of anger, and hate - the hatred, for my eating disorder - and I was texting my friend and teling her that yes, 10 am was the time i would usually have a hot choc. And perhaps, before I came up to her, I would pop into Insomnia and get myself one? My friend was quick to urge me on, encouraging me to do exactly that and commending me for being so strong. "But make sure you get one now Emmy. I'll be checking when you come in!" And so...yes. I had done it. I had won another victory against my eating disorder...with the help and support of my friend. And so, subsequently, on Thursday morning the Ganache Elf was coming out of the Insomnia near Heuston Station, clutching in one gloved hand a cup of the best hot choc in town. And they even still had the Christmassy themed cups, which quite honestly are so adorable and made the smile upon my face even wider. A smile brought about through the knowledge that yes, I was doing the right thing. I was being strong against my eating disorder, and had taken yet another little step up the long and steeply sloping mountain.
And so: to summarise. In recovery, it's so, so important, to ensure that you are consistently "on your guard" for the various traps and snares left for you y your eating disorder, which is willing to adopt any strategy to get you caught up once again in its , and that you expose the ground upon which your eating disorder flourished and thrived; so that it is left right out there in the open...so it pretty much, has not one single place left for it to hide. You have to hunt it down in order for it to be destroyed. But, like the pod of dolphins working together in the ocean, hunting out the shoal of fish, this is not something you should be expected to do alone. reach out to others and ask for their support. If you know that breakfast is something you struggle with...then make sure you let someone know and get them to have it with you (if possible, maybe they could have the same sort of food as you?) Or if you have a tendency to miss out on snacks. Then tell a supportive friend or family member, go out and buy yourself some nice snacks that you know that you like and will enjoy, and make it clear to others that this is what you intend to have. The more people you let in, the more support you will have and the eating disorder will have less and less places to hide.
Now, this post has got way too long already so I am going to sign off now!! But I have alot more to say on this topic and in one of my upcoming posts I would love to share with you some of my tips for exposing/hunting out ED and ED habits/behaviours.