And no possible way to protect myself from them.
And then...that essay...
the last one..for Hilary Term...yes, it has to be written...very soon...
And you are going to fail it, because...
You aren't spending enough time studying...
you're too busy thinking about food and calories and your recovery...
Selfish little b....!
And then, the voice of reason, trying weakly to break through.
Since making my decision last week about college and recovery, I set aside some time to write out a list of goals, one for each day of the week. But the final goal...the final goal which I wrote upon my list was to reduce my morning walk, bit by little bit. But as of yet, I have not done it. The thought of it - of sitting there, trying to write my essay, while my eating disorder screamed and bellowed in my head with the ferocity of a roiling thundercloud - was enough to make my skin cold with fear. I could not see myself doing it.
2.) And then, of course, there's this...fear I suppose of losing the modest level of fitness that I have.
I say modest - well, I can climb hills with only a slight increase in my breathing rate. I can powerwalk, run for short bursts, stuff like that. Nothing outstanding, exactly; I've never been a runner or a jogger; never been a frequent user of gyms or swimming pools. But the whole while I have been ill I don't think there has ever been a time when I haven't done what I do every day; meaning that, I suppose, I have acquired a certain level of fitness which I am "scared" of losing.
3.) And then of course there is the simple fact that I don't want to cut down or eliminate, because to do so would equate to cutting out something which gives me so, so much joy.
I have to face the facts. Logically, I don't think I am ready yet for cutting it out.
I am not a believer in the theory that an anorexic exercises purely for her anorexia. For me - as I am sure is the case with many others - this is not the case. I walk and cycle for so many other reasons that that: to exercise my two furry friends, for starters. To get to college from the station. My walks give me some space to clear my head; to lose myself, for a time at least, in the treasure trove of natural delights extended to me by nature's beautiful, graceful hands.
But, of course, there is a compulsion side to it. I have tried. Numerous times. Tried to go for a day without doing something. The last time was sometime in..November, I think it was. Mam and Dad had gone out; I had resolved to stay at home, and read over my essay. I won't go out, I told myself firmly. So resolute and brave and determined. Until the Voice kicked in with a vengeance. The anxiety began to vehemently swell within me, a balloon being inflated to bursting point. I became intensely and uncontrollably afraid.
I tried to calm myself by telling myself that I was doing the right thing, the best thing for my body. It didn't work, of course. And so out I went into the soft autumn evening air.
Oh the joy that surged within my heart as I stepped out onto the pebble-strewn pathway. The tender kiss of the sun upon my face; the caress of the gentle afternoon breeze teasing the strands of hair escaping loose from my hat.
But yet behind my delight throbbed a steady, insistent beat. As tangible as that joy which pulsed through my blood, it spoke of my remorse and bitterness and shame.
The shame of knowing that I was not strong enough. Bitterness at the knowledge that one of the things that I loved to do most of all - walks through the countryside in the golden light of the sun; loping across dewy green fields with Benny trotting by my side - was being twisted and tainted by that demon in my head.
I'm not strong enough for this.
A few months later, I find myself still stumbling over the same mucky, slippy ground.
But I wanted this to be the year when things were different; when I made a real, concrete change. And so I know that I need to change, too. In a sense that this time...I need to do things very, very differently.
It's only Me who can make this change, noone else.
We have to draw upon our own strength.
1. To make a new rule for myself. That being, If I choose to exercise, I MUST make sure I eat something extra, on top of my meal plan, to provide the extra energy for it. No excuses. It's a rule.
2. And to try to reduce it..as much as I can without making the anxiety too unbearable.
To start off my just deducting 5 minutes from my morning walk...and then to take it from there. I'm not sure if it's going to be successful, but I know that I have to try.
3.) To try and encourage myself to reduce by writing down and rereading the advantages of doing so..
- It'll give me something to work towards...once I am healthy again, I can exercise when and for how long I want, in a healthy, non-obsessive way.
- An underweight body is a delicate body. Yes, and I am still underweight - 2 kg of so off the "minimum", true; but still, underweight. so that applies to me, too. despite everything which ED tries to tell me.
And so, if I were to fall or place a foot wrong, literally.. I could seriously hurt myself.
- And Ed is also very good at making me forget all the times in the past when I acquired injuries - especially in my foot - just by walking when I was underweight. Ed likes me to think that my body is Healthy" and strong, but it is not.
- I need to give my body a 110 % chance to heal itself...and right now, I know, deep down. That exercise at the moment isn't going to help that.
But it's hard, so hard. And I find myself once again in a state of frenzied, desperate panic; convinced that what I am doing is wrong, and selfish, and that it will negatively effect my college work; will inhibit me from obtaining that precious degree.
Only 2 more months!
Surely you'll be grand till then...!
No, ED, just..NO. I have to do what I can, NOW. It won't be pretty and it won't be perfect. But recovery never truly is. And I know what I wrote in my last post is so, so true. If I wait I will just find another excuse. And if I have to endure this inner mental debate in my head, every day till then...well, so be it. I just know that I have to try.
Try to walk the hardest path that I have ever trodden in my whole entire life.