Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Hiccup

I threw up.

I haven’t done so in 7 months. I haven’t done so daily for over a year. Better, but still healing. Weary. Tired of fighting a 3 year battle that sometimes seems to be making no forward progress.

Journal: “Anger. Frustration. Hatred. Existence. Somewhere else-ness.

I hate feeling sick and bloated.
I hate feeling full.
I hate feeling out of control.
I hate my fixation with food, hunger, food, and exercise.
I hate feeling less than 100% to the people around me.
I hate that this is my struggle, still.
I hate that people around me have to put up with this.

That’s a lot of hate. I seem to hate many things right now, mostly who I am and where I’m at. I get easily frustrated with myself. It is hard to forgive what I’ve done.

Anne Lamott says, “Not forgiving someone is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

In that case I’m both drinking and waiting to die because I can’t forgive myself and I’m carrying a lot of frustration and hatred towards myself.

HB, I forgive you for lying and starving senior year. We had much to learn.

HB, I forgive you for needing counseling. It’s okay, it really is. Five counselors later, we all need a little help.

HB, I forgive you for taking the last 3 years to heal. Take the time you need.

HB, I forgive you for bulimia; for the binging, force feeding, and in the end, throwing it all up. Life happens. Pain happens. We keep breathing.

HB, I forgive you for struggling, for hurting, for being less than 100% all the time, for existing, and wanting to disappear.

HB, I forgive you for the abuse, force, hatred, comparisons, lack of nourishment, and lack of love. You are forgiven.

In considering what I struggle to forgive, I see that first and foremost I have hated myself most for STILL struggling with an eating disorder. I am still talking about this, still writing about this. I need to give myself grace and time. I need to slow down and take what comes.

If I could tell the end from the beginning, if I could see the exact time and date that healing came and ED was no longer part of my life, I would relax. I would accept that healing will come and take it a day at a time. If ED recovery, as predicted, takes 7-10 years, I’m not even half way. After more than 3 years I’ve learned so much, grown immensely, and I’ve lived well. Not perfect, but well.

Where will I be four years from now? Seven years from the start, the minimum of average recovery would put me in March 2013? I’ll be 25 years old. Will I be healed by then? What if I am not? Will hope, faith, and love hold out for this weary traveler?
March 2013. That seems a lifetime, an eternity, so far, so long. Can I sit with the pain long enough to heal, long enough to whisper a hopeful, “It’s gonna be alright”? Can I keep learning, walking, and stretching instead of being continually angry with myself for not being healed now?

It will be work. It will require purpose and awareness. Healing is work. Healing is a process. Healing will come.”

I could spend the next 2 weeks hating myself for throwing up, instead, I’m moving on. I’m riding the waves. Sure I went 7 months, that’s good. This is not a major fall. This is a hiccup and I am always, always moving upward because I cannot forget what I’ve learned along the way.

1 comments:

S. said...

Hang in there. I know this battle is tough but you are stronger than you think. You are in my prayers.