The Impossible Dream

Dear Mam,
Im sorry for getting on your nerves last night, for answering back when you criticised me, and then going off to cry afterwards. I'm sorry that I can't take criticism better, that I didn't manage to do what Matt did last weekend. I'm sorry for letting you down again. I promise I'll try better the next time.

Im also sorry for getting so stressed about the job situation and for not having a job by now in the first place. I'm sorry Im no longer going in April. Im sorry you're going to have to put up with me for this bit longer. I'm -

Stop, Em, a scornful voice raps out, and my hands ceases to write upon the little slip of card wedged into the soil of the plant pot.You can't just write....all that. A siimple I'm sorry will suffice, then. Oh but Em, you've bought her flowers countless times before. Don't you think she's going to get sick of it? That it'll be a source of irritation in itself??

But. But I'm upset because she's angry with me and I don't want that.

I want to make amends. Amends for what?? For just - everything. Everything I've ever done and keep on doing. I want - to be - the "perfect" daughter. I don't want her to be angry with me. I can't bear it! Why do I always have to be the inadequate one??...

Without warning, an image passes across my minds eye, a vision of mam and dad discussing my brother's progress in college, and what a "sound lad" he was. I felt like crying. I want them to talk about me like that, I thought, in agony. But no. I bet all they talk about when they discuss me is the fact I leave alot to be desired. No job, no career aspirations, and still moody and weird about her food and goes around with her head stuck firmly in the clouds.

Yes. That was what I wanted all along, I realise now. All along I, in the words of Moana, wished that I could be the perfect daughter. But like Moana was drawn back to the water's edge, time and time again I always drifted back to Ed, or depression, or something that wasn't compatible with my beautiful, perfect ideal.

I wanted everything to be perfect,

as immaculate as a cornflower-blue sky...

They say anorexia is often caused by something embedded within one's darker experiences of childhood. But the point is I had no dark experiences. All I knew, as that flaxen haired little girl, was kindness and affection; of constant expressions of love. Yet despite all that I created a crevice for myself. Come my early teens, I had latched onto this idea that I had to be perfect to be loved. That I had to be immaculate in every way in order to deserve respect, to earn affection, even friendship. So as well as harnessing ED as a way of bringing about what I back then saw as being the perfect body, I rooted out all the possible ways which I believed would enable me to achieve this golden goal of perfection. I was going to study non stop and get the best grades. I was going to go to Trinity College. I was going to be so demure, so polite, so flawless in every aspect of my character. I'd never lose my patience or make a mistake in any area of my life, whether that be personal, academic or social, as to do so would result in the dreaded and most loathsome thing of all: criticism.

But no. Now I realise I have to, that I must let go of that. I'm not perfect. And I never, ever will be. I see myself as infintely flawed, and at the same time , I realise that there's nothing I can do about that. But then why does my parents disapproval affect me so much? Do I need to develop a thicker skin and not let it get to me to such a great extent when we have these stupid, petty, insignificant little rows?

But yet I say this to myself all the time. Stop trying to please them. You're never going to be able to live up to their expectations. You've tried in the past to make them proud and it never worked, really. So stop. Just stop! Can't you see how pointless this is?

But there's this innate and very much childish desire deep inside me to please others, particularly when it comes to my parents. And I know all too well nothing quite feels as good as that feeling of knowing that I have succeeded in pleasing someone. It's like a sweet rush of warmth and serenity, a security. I feel secure and fulfilled having brought a smile to one's face or an approving, satisfied word. But on the opposite extreme, knowing that another person is displeased with me is equatable to having a mountain collapse on my head. Heavy rocks, tumbling down; bearing me down with them to lie broken and bleeding upon the floor. And last night was just one of those instances. Afterward I went upstairs alone and sat crying upon the floor of my room, trying to gather up the scraps of what was left of a perfect, beautiful day which had now been torn ruthlessly apart like a pretty dress ripped apart by jagged thorns. It felt like it was the end of everything.

Now then morning is here; the night has fled. Im sitting in the exact same place as I was yesterday, though the room now looks subtly different. Golden shafts of sunlight pour through the window, illuminating the tiny dust motes floating in the air; these circulate, like miniscule planets in orbit, in lazy circles before my eyes, performing a slow and and graceful dance to which there is no beginning, and no end. The sunlight advances further, touching and irradiating, outlining the frames of the dusty ornaments dispersed across the bookshelf, amplifying the bright colours of the little duvet strewn across my little bed. The room is different, but I still feel the same. I feel bitter and sad. I look at my bed and wish that I just could climb right back into it, pull the snug covers over my head, escape reality by leaping into the infinite oblivion of dreams.

But I realise now that I am essentially trying to live an impossible dream. It's no good trying to be the perfect daughter. I tried that in the past and it never got me anywhere. In fact, it only served to cause me more pain, and others too. I need to let go. Let go of the impossible dream. But to do so is as hard as fighting off sleep when you're already drained and exhausted. It's as tough as going against an instinctive drive or impulse, or urge; because that is what this feels like to me. And like ED I've been this way for as long as I can remember.To let go of the impossible dream seems, in itself, impossible. And Im afraid to do so, primarily more than anything, because I believe deep down that if I stop trying to please other people as much as I currently do, than they will lose all affection for me, will turn away with hardened faces. And there is nothing I fear more, that that. Of losing the people that I love. That is the nightmare from which I cower before and plead to not touch me. I could not bear to lose them. But am I not losing them, anyway? How do I walk the fine line between making others happy, but not in a way which causes me pain and unhappiness?

The storm will pass...

A massive thank you to everyone who wrote to me yesterday via comments and emailing - you made me feel so much better and the kindness and consideration you displayed in taking the time to write to me really touched my heart. Thank you so, so, SO much! And now, thanks to you, I have found the courage and the determination deep inside me to pick myself up, dust myself down, and keep on moving forward on the road of recovery.

And today, I am so glad to say,  things ARE alot, lot better - and as I sit writing to you now, it is almost as if the tears and hot anger of Monday never even happened.

I have told this to myself many times before, and I might have evn written a post at this stage, as well - but I'm going to put it out there again, as it's something which I myself need to CONSTANTLY remind myself of, and may be of help to many others who are struggling, too.

It's true, EVERYONE has their bad days. I don't think there is anyone out there right now, recovered or recovering from an eating disorder, who can say that it is all just plain sailing. It isn't. It is a difficult, often rough, and sometimes very stormy journey. And yes, there will be the days when the clouds gather in and the rain will lash down, and it might seem that you are eternally lost in an oppressive, inter-pentrable fog, of which there seems to be no end. In the heat of the moment, things can often appear MUCH worse than they actually are.

But always remember, the storm will pass. Tough times don't last, but tough people do. <3 xxx

It is very, very easy to fall into the trap of negative thinking whenever you are having a really bad day: I feel awful now; I will feel awful, forever.  I will never be happy again. She won't speak to me aver again now. They will never forgive me for what I have done.

My advice to you is to not believe these voices that run through your head, regardless of how convincing they are, or if a good 90% percent of you is in total agreement with them. DONT give in to them: allow yourself to have hope. And don't isolate or withdraw into yourself. Even if it's just a text or a Facebook message, talk to someone who you trust and who cares about you. And know that it is okay to cry.

When I woke up yesterday morning, I felt so drained, miserable and hopeless that all I wanted to do was to pull the sheet up right over my head once more and just stay there, stay there until the night came again - no food, no communication, no nothing - and then finally emerge once everyone else was going to sleep, so that noone would see me, or speak to me. A ridiculous notion, I know, but this time yesterday morning, that single thought was very vivid and clear in my head. But did I go along with it? No, I did not. The storm was raging inside my head, icy rain trickled down my cheeks as I contemplated what I should do.

There is nothing you can do, the Voice whispered, its voice cutting through the rush of pent-up emotions like a razor-sharp icicle being forced through soft, freshly-fallen snow. They all hate you. You will be miserable forever. There's no point to anything, now. There's nothing left to fight for. A massive proportion of me echoed that voice, believing, agreeing.

But before I really and truly did give in to my despair, I realised that there was another voice, too. Barely audible, weak, and wavering - but yet, it was still there, all the same. That voice said that there was hope.That I had come too far to just give up now. That I should get up out of my bed and face the day and have courage. To not isolate myself from my family, making no attempt at talking to them: in fact, to do the exact opposite. To stay strong and keep my head up, and to believe that, just as all my former storms and bad days and tough times did so, that this storm could and would pass.

And pass, it did. 

Yesterday I did a number of things, that helped me to get through that storm and enable me to step into the light once again. Firstly, I wrote a blog post. It helped me so, so much to just clear my head and get my emotions out onto paper; and then , of course, the support and words of advice that I received through the comments really made me feel so, so much better, and braver. I talked to several of my friends on Facebook and received their adv ice and thoughts as well. And then come noon, I had summoned up enough courage to actually go outside instead of just hanging round the villa, trying to keep out of everyone's way. I put myself out there, I went an talked to my family instead of just trying to avoid them. And by the evening time., the tension had eased, Mam was smiling at me again, we had a nice dinner with conversation and even some laughter: the storm had passed and I felt the sunshine upon my face once more.

There are only a few more days left, now, until my holiday here in mallorca is over, though I know that my journey of recovery continues on, winding and weaving like the narrow, steep country roads that encircle the cliffs of Cap de Formentor, the nothernmost part of the island of Mallorca - an island which will always hold a very special place in my heart; and to which I will bid a fond farewell as our plane ascends into that glorious cobalt sky on Saturday evening.

But as one of my readers pointed out to me yesterday, my return home poses an ideal opportunity for me to start afresh once more, in regards to fighting ED and keeping to the meal plan, and making myself stronger, healthier (physically and mentally), and happier.

When I return home I want to make a fresh start in...

• following my meal plan - I have been doing alot better with it, but there's still stuff that I need to work on. Such as, making stuff for myself and eating alone(whenever I am unaccompanied or without support, I often end up being stingey or minimalist when making myself a meal or portioning out a snack...or if it's the latter, sometimes just skipping it and going without), morning snack, eating what I want to have rather than what I think I SHOULD have (big difference!!) , etc. 
• Start doing hobbies that I really enjoy, old and new
• Continue to blog to my heart's content:) and, having written just a little of my Morokia summary last night, as well as having just finished a medieval type story of knights and damsels and intricate historical detail, I am eager to have another "stab" (haha) at writing my trilogy again.
• Start volunteering
• Make a decision in regard to Trinity and, if I am not going back, to do some research and find out what options do I have.
• To just enjoy the rest of the summer with my family and friends and wee animaux :) <3 xxx 

Walking in the mountains with Mam and Bennty, not long before the weekend we left for Mallorca <3 xxx