Weeks ago, when I first shared my blog “publicly” (months ago?) I felt on the brink of disaster. Like at any moment, I might fall off of the edge of a cliff, and smash to pieces where I fell thousands of miles below. This feeling of inevitable collapse spurred me on to seek nutrition and healing. Now, a short distance down the road, I have found new habits to become comfortable with. I have become a new version of my ritualistic self. It makes me wonder what it will take to break my mold. I know I may never heal completely. I know that relapse is likely. I will probably never be who I would have been, had I never developed an eating disorder. I mean, how can I become who I “should have been”? A part of me mourns for what I lost. I see girls walking down the sidewalk, legs bare, shoulders golden with sun. I am jealous of their careless abandon. Their fearlessness to reveal their skin. I never thought I was too fat. Now I know I am too skinny. Body shame…it sounds as dirty as it is. I had a sort of epiphany today…that this body is mine. It’s like a book I own, or my favorite pair of jeans. I can treat it how I like, because it is mine and mine alone. And look how I use and abuse it! This shell that I am living in. This home. I am treating it like carp. And I have been for years upon years. I have these thoughts and feelings, and I know I have a looooong way to go.
I can remember when I was put on a very calorie dense diet, (the one that ended me up in the hospital) and one day when I was getting out of the shower I thought “I think I’m even skinnier than before I started eating more!”. Of course, I couldn’t really tell that I ha lost weight. I probably hadn’t gained anything or lost anything in the past two days that I had been eating more. But I remember thinking that it might have to get worse before it gets better. Maybe I would go a little backwards before I could move ahead. I don’t know if this is a solid theory or not, but I think this idea applies in more than one place in my life. Sometimes we have to make a shambles of things before we can begin to pick up the pieces.