When sleep feels like the only safe place.
When dreams are nowhere to be found.
Feeling like I must have an aura of pitch black following me around.
Anorexia was never an act of not physically being able to eat, rather it was a refusal.
Learning early on that it was easier to abstain than put myself through the guilt and shame.
Now ed is silent, because a new voice has taken over.
Depression. The kind that feeds off itself (or is that depression in general?).
Still going through the motions, to get through the day. Collapsing and shutting down at home.
I keep reminding myself where this road could lead. I don’t want to go back there.
Something intuitive tells me this could be a breakthrough.
Maybe there is something more I need to learn before I’m ready to heal.
Maybe, like the labyrinth, depression is something I keep looping back on.
Maybe there is something unvisited deep inside me.
I find myself thinking that no wonder I ended up here, ultimately.
No wonder I developed an eating disorder at the age of 13.
No wonder I had no friends.
This depression is deep, and I’m not sure I’ve even glimpsed the bottom; I may still be standing on the edge.
And if this is exactly how I felt when I was a new teen, an eating disorder would feed off of this behavior.
Nothing holds much interest, besides sleep.
I am no longer hungry, and I freeze at the thought of food passing my lips.
I’m scared, because this darkness is finding me more and more.
I thought things were looking up, and now I’m losing hope.
I know better days can and will happen.
I know this too shall pass.
It’s the holding on that’s exhausting. The guilt and sadness I feel for my husband, for not being present.
And I know I’m priveleged, I should feel gratitude for all I have.
I know my problems are typical “white girl” problems. Trust me, this weighs on me too.
Learning to take care of myself, it’s hard. Often it means I have to do things I’d prefer not to do.
Thankfully, I’m hanging in there. An appointment with my doctor, therapist and dietitian, all within this week.
I know I’m going to be OK, as long as I keep showing up, in life and at important appointments.