Proving our eating disorder mind wrong
I’ve always experienced melancholy; some days are worse than others, and some are bearable. Some days, I just want the struggle to stop. After all, everyone with a chaotic mind yearns for peace.
However, I want to live, and if the chaos cannot be wholly stopped, I would rather endure the pain of survival than create a ripple effect of sadness on those around me. I know that I’ve said this over and over, but all I want to do is breathe at a steady pace in life. I want things to slow down, and live in the moment, there, here, and now.
Recovery is not easy, and it is something that we take on as a full-time job, entirely dedicated to ourselves by working days and night by learning new and healthy habits.
There is only one person we need to keep accountable for this: ourselves. The struggle has taken a toll on my mind, but it is nothing compared with the toll that anorexia nervosa (AN) has had on my mind, body, and spirit. On some days, the AN has dragged me down, where the waves have barrelled me deep underneath them, to the place where I can’t see which way is up. Things eventually break, and I make my way up for a breath of air, knowing that another wave of white will smash down on top of me, and back under I will go, tumbling with the taste of salt flooding my sinus running down my throat.
I have experienced the darkest darkness, and it is isolating. It tries to break my soul when I lose footing on the recovery path I have started to build. Sometimes I get stuck in a ditch that I feel I can’t seem to climb out of. However, I persevere. Now that I am aware of that ditch, I have reached the stage, and I claw my way out. I draw on my newly acquired skills and inner strength gained through the recovery and the support network that I have around me. I have learnt to reach out and accept help, to trust and follow guidance, when it is offered to me.
I know fear is a feeling, and one that will pass, if I can just hold onto my goal. I’ve worked hard to avoid being pulled back under again. Right now, I am trying very hard to increase my self-awareness. When I have screamed the words, ‘Why does it take so much for me to just survive in this life?’ I’ve cried out on repeat, ‘I’m a good person’.
Other times I might be rocking back and forth, huddled in a corner, softy saying these words with streaming tears burning my cheeks. I have cried so much that when I wipe away the tears, my skin feels raw.
Building for myself the life I want is a constant challenge, but I continue because the ups and downs are just a cycle, one I am used to having, and although I’ll never get used to the feeling, I know I’ll be okay.
This is the beauty of recovery — experiencing the worst and knowing what is best, the ability to continue, and the ongoing support and community we can build around our own self.
By reaching out to others who are like-minded and offer understanding and support without judgment, you will never be alone. You will be part of a community. Your struggle will be worthwhile.
Always remember, with each fall, that you’ve come this far and are here today to prove that your eating disorder mind is wrong.