Saturday, March 7, 2009

Three Year War

Laying on my tummy, my arms reach back for the soles of my feet. Holding on tightly and lifting my legs into the air, I form the bow pose while swaying gently on my stomach and hip bones. Arched back and neck held upwards, Liz says, "Just when you want to give up, hold on. As you sense the tension and exhaustion of your muscles, ask yourself, 'Is this pain so unbearable that I cannot relax as much as possible and just be here right now?' "

I wanted to cry, so I did. The lessons I learn in yoga continue to change and challenge me.

Can I continue breathing even when it hurts?
In this time of tension and apparent anxiety, can my body stretch and strengthen even when it's painful?
Is my situation so unbearable that I cannot just be here right now?

Last night, at my sister's warm and cozy home surrounded by wonderful people and hot drinks, I escaped to the bathroom for one purpose. With a full stomach and enough self-hatred to go around, all I wanted to do was throw up to feel better, to numb the pain, to get out of feeling this way, and exist on the temporary high of relief, control, and endorphins.

I sat down and thought of what I was about to do. First, I'd have to take this ring off of my right index finger, put there as a very practical reminder. Second, I'd have to tell Ben and Ashley, escape to the dorm, and fall asleep in my tears. Third, I'd tell Jeremy. Fourth, I'd have to write a blog about it, again. Fifth, I'd have to tell my parents. Sixth, I'd have to tell my dietician.

The list was long and still, STILL, I thought, "Yeah, but, just this once. Just one more time. It will be worth it."

So I prayed, Spirit, here we are again. I don't want to go down this road, but I can't stop myself. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm putting you on a time line. If you don't stop me in the next 10 seconds, I'm going to do it.




Ugggh, you've got to be kidding me...

My cell phone rang. It was Jeremy. He's been gone all week on a canoe trip to Florida and now he calls? Now? Yeah, now.

Rewind four months ago, November 4th, 2008, my birthday, election night, the last time I wanted to purge. Spirit, if you even exist, I need to know it. I can't stop myself, so you're going to have to.

A knock at my door.

What's the deal with me trying to continue my self-hating, self-loathing behaviors and the Universe not letting me?

Here's what purging is all about. The very basics of human existence involve breathing, food, and water. We cannot live without these very basic needs being met. Eating disorders deal directly with the question, "Am I good enough?" and most commonly the answer is, "No. I need to throw up or starve myself because I don't even deserve to eat, to be fed, to be."

I want to feel good enough. I want to believe people when they tell me I am. I want someone to say, "You are a good person, beautiful, worth it, important..." and actually believe them.

Because inside I hear, She is just saying that because she doesn't have anything else to say. They don't mean it. You're despicable. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve happiness. You are worthless.

It felt good to talk to Jeremy last night. He asks, "What can I do?" Just the fact that he asks, is about all he can do. Feeling heard is important.

This morning a voice mail on my phone from Jeremy, reminding me I'm important to him. I start to cry thinking, He can't be serious. He still must not know you well enough, or else he'd never say things like that.

The self-destructive, abusive voice in my head is stronger on some days more than others, but still, always there. It says, "you", because it isn't me. I don't know who or what it is, but some days I give up because...I'm just too tired of fighting it.

This war is 3 years old. And indeed, it's getting old.


Anonymous said...

there is only one that can give you what you need to fight......
only one with enough strength and protection to help you stand.....
you call Him, Spirit
He has you. Keep calling HIM

Katelyn said...

Have I mentioned lately how much I love you, Heather? With every part of my heart, I mean that.

You helped me continue to keep breathing, even when it hurt. Now I am quickly (and yet slowly) becoming a part of that 89%.

You helped me to keep breathing just by being you.

Just thought I would remind you. :)