More about life, love, the pursuit of happiness, and the girl behind the blog.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

I'll try to be less manic this time.

My last post (which I deleted) was a mania induced mess.
So, let us try again, now that my mood is stable.

I keep deleting everything I'm writing.
I guess it's because it's hard for me to
say what I mean sometimes.

This is one of those times.

I'm struggling.
The will to eat,
to recover,
is not there.

I miss my skinny jeans.
They don't fit right now.
As an earlier post from me says,
I've gained some weight.
I'm out of the range the dietician set for me.
Only a few pounds,
but it's terrifying.
According to BMI charts,
which they are not accurate,
I'm still... at the lowish-mediumish side of healthy.
It's 21.3 now.
My BMI, I mean.

It amazes me sometimes,
the weight I've had to gain in recovery.
It amazes me that, at one time,
I was, as Nicole put it, "wasted."

I look back now at pictures, and I can see it.
I see how bad it was, weighing ** pounds.
I was not beautiful then.
Sickness does not befit me.

I look at pictures,
and I can see the bones.
I see the teeth, mouth, and eyes
that seem too big for my face.
I see that, even with a smile on my face,
my eyes were haunted.
I was haunted.
I am haunted still, sometimes.

I can still feel my past,
the rape, the abuse,
the harsh words that sting the soul even now.
I still feel it.
Like Marya Hornbacher said,
"Frostbite does not hurt until it starts to thaw.
First, it is numb. Then a shock of pain rips though
the body. And then, every winter after, it aches.
And every season since is winter, and I do still ache."

She's right.
I do ache.
Recovery awakened me.
It thawed my frozen soul that I lived with in my Eating Disorder.
I didn't feel the pain,
once I had my eating disorder.
And then, when I made the decision to do it (recovery)
for real this time,
all hell broke loose.
We're not talking about a slow thaw.
We're talking about ice being thrown into
the fire.
A fast, terrifying, "all emotions hit you all at once," thaw.

I just want to shut it off.
I am a completely different kind of fucked up,
now that I'm in recovery.
Before, I was psychotic, dissociated, numb.
It didnt mean anything, though.
I didn't know anything different.
I was so gone, that none of it mattered.
Now I'm neurotic, manic, depressive, and I feel
way too much.
It's overwhelming and I just want to shut my brain up.
I want quiet, but all I have are these thoughts that
won't go away.
It's like someone is screaming in my ear with a megaphone
all the time.

I grow tired of being abnormal.

The only way I know how to cure the abnormal-ness
is to feel nothing at all.
The only way I know how to do that is with my ED.

I don't know.

I should breathe.


  1. sometimes the only reason i stay in recovery is because i don't know what else to do...because i know that relapsing is just avoiding the inevitable (death or going back into recovery).

    sometimes recovery is empty and you don't know why you're doing it- other than the fact that it's your only option. hang on. everything "next right thing you do" gets you one step closer to a beautiful, tangible reminder of why you decided to recover!

  2. I think I am in a similar place, weight wise, and emotionally. Not so much with the ED thoughts, but just the drain of recovery (mine from the suicide attempt) and I can hear the exhaustion I so often feel at the moment myself. We seem to write about very different things/experiences, but experience them with similar pain and struggle.
    I love you.
    Life has so much more purpose and as you heal, you will find it.
    I love you angel xxx


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