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.:)
Friday, 1 July 2016
The long and lonely mountain...
But then gradually, this feeling subsides, to be replaced by something quite different. My smile fades as I reread the paragraph again, my enthusiasm draining away like water leaking from a cracked glass. It reminds me of something; something, which is hurting. Twisting deep inside me like a dagger within my heart, embedding itself deeper and deeper.
For this paragraph reminds me...reminds me, of how alone, I really feel. And that transitory feeling of pleasure - stemming for my passion for Morokia, the story of that world and its characters which I myself created - also serves to remind me of how detached and separated I am from the real, human world. I am not a princess in a fairy tale. I am not in the same place as Rachel and Narcissus and Begonia, with their beautiful dresses and spirits of fire. They are brave and beautiful and noble; fighting for their freedom; their homes; for those that they love. I am not, and never will be, part of that world. A massive part of me wishes that I am, because this world, the world of the 21st century, feels like one in which I will never truly belong. And it is such a lonely, painful world. So painful it feels like I am lying on a bed of thorns. So lonely and so isolating, I might as well be standing upon the most desolate and barren mountain, a million miles away from any kind of human civilisation.
The hardest thing for me though is...I know, I have brought this on myself. Years and years of being sick with anorexia meant that I detached and distanced myself from my peers, particularly in my years at Trinity,when my eating disorder was as its worst. The old friends who I love are now moving on, moving away from me. And there is nothing I can do as I watch them spread their wings and fly; because I love them , love them with all my heart, and I want them to achieve their dreams, and be free. I cannot want them to think of me now; for why should they? They have their own lives, their own friends; jobs, boyfriends, a social life. They are free and they are happy. My heart feels like it could burst with happiness for them; while at the same time it feels like it could bbreak. For the pain of losing them; of watching them slowly and gradually begin to slip away from me.
If only I could reclaim everything which i have lost; ever since Ed entered my life, and began its never-ending game of all take and no give. Lost, and will never be able to retrieve. For I know, I will never be able to relive those years at trinity..years in which I should have spent socializing and trying out new things; meeting new people, making new friends, and, essentially, finding myself. Because that's how I feel, even though, having achieved so, so much with my recovery, I still feel defined by my eating disorder, because it laid its mark upon my life in ways which I feel will never truly be eradicated. Will I always be the lonely one? The one who is always on her own, cut off from all the others by those vast, fathomless gulfs of isolation? The shy, quiet girl, who can barely speak out of nervousness or anxiety when in the company of strangers; who feels so shy and awkward around boys, that she would purposely look away so they could not look at her in the eye? who spends so much of her time scanning her phone or her Facebook messages, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, has messaged her? Who spends so much of her time alone, burning the little candle of solitude?
I can only hope that things will change, for me. Change, in a way that means my life will change too, and that the sun will break through this suffocating fog of isolation; in which i seem so helplessly, futilely lost. But it seems like I have been waiting for this change for an eternity; waiting, and hoping, for such a long, long time. My road of recovery winds on and on, up and along that steep-sloped, towering mountain. A mountain which I know I must, and will, continue to climb. but upon which, no matter how high I ascend, I have never felt quite so alone.