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.:)

Thursday 31 October 2019

The Final Leap

What frightens you the most, Em?

The thought of taking that final, terrifying leap into the depths of the unknown?

Or is it the thought of remaining stuck...in this insipid place they call half recovery..forever?

What frightens you more?

The leap; or the prison?



Just over a year ago I composed a short little post entitled the Beginning After the Halfway. Within it, I spoke of how in recovery one may encounter two beginnings : the first, most obvious one being the beginning of the recovery journey itself: the action "phase", so I have heard it called. Initially I thought that was the only "beginning":After that it would be straight upwards: upwards, until one reaches he end: the beautiful summit of the towering mountain.

But now, having trodden the recovery road for many years, I see recovery as having two fundamental beginnings. The actual beginning of recovery; at the very start; when one acknowledges, accepts, and takes the first few crucial steps. The beginning of the recovery journey. But then, within that journey itself, there is a second beginning: one which some travellers upon this road will never know of , because this is where their journey ultimately reaches it end.

That second beginning lies just beyond a critical point: a point where some turn, turn and go right back; whereas others remain forever, unsure as to how to go on. That point is the place of half recovery, and what lies beyond is the beginning of the final battle against anorexia.

At that place, many an anorexic's journey finds its end. They remain there, unable to commence the second beginning; shackled down by the fetters of doubt and mistrust and fear. 

But half recovery is very much like a limbo land. You're far above the hellish domain that was being immersed wholly and completely within the depths of anorexia. And yet, you are equally so far removed from that idyllic place of being fully recovered. And you see, and know it deep down; that there is something more to this. That the life you are living is a far cry from what you imagined being recovered to be. no matter how much ED might convince you otherwise. And knowing that is enough to torment you daily; like an apple being held out to a tethered horse. Close enough to see and smell; Close enough to almost taste its sweet juices. But not close enough to take from that extended hand. The knowledge, the acknowledgement made deep down, is enough to tempt and torture, but yet not enough to spur you into taking that massive, frightening leap.

I said..back in that post just over a year ago now...I said that I would make some sort of beginning , after the halfway. But did I? Did I really throw myself into the deep? A difficult question to which I struggled to properly answer. Because I think...I think it's more complex than a simple yes, or no. I think that I both did, and did not. I took the leap but instead of kicking hard when my body entered the water, propelling myself further into the deep - instead I lingered, hesitant and reluctant to swim away from the jutting rock upon which I had so long been stuck, the rock that served as that crucial milestone which marks having reached a place of half recovery. For that rock had replaced the grim cave of being entrenched within anorexia, as the much hated, yet irresistible familiarity which I found myself unable and too frightened to leave.

It's a struggle. It's a messy, agonising struggle. And every day the same question spins a slow orbit in my head. Are you going to swim yet, Em? Or are you just going to flounder aimlessly around this rock, forever?

At first I saw that rock as a milestone: one which, having reached, I would commend myself for reaching, and then move on. On with recovery. But it feels instead that I paused by this rock to take a breath, and then decided that, well this rock ain't so bad at all. I think I'll take a rest here, now. Just a little rest. I wont let myself become stuck here, though. I will take the next leap and swim on.

One year later, and still, here I am. Still waiting, upon that lonely little rock.

Waiting. For what?

To right time, the right place, to take the dive into the deep waters? To have the courage fight the hardest and most gruelling battle of all: to win back complete freedom, rather than some sort of half freedom which doesn't really feel like  true freedom, at all? To finally feel ready to break every string attached to me - including the subtle, implicit ones which noone else can see?



But if I wait; won't I simply sit and wait here, forever?
Isn't it time to simply stop waiting; and take that final leap?



2 comments:

  1. The leap of faith will guide you hun, you just need to take the plunge. Remember, even if we cannot swim at first we do float and you'll drift towards where you want to go eventually darling 💙

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you hun for your kind and wise words 💙💙

      Delete