Keep Fighting

(Written in my Journal dated October 2012)

          It is the middle of October, close to the anniversary of when my eating disorder began. It’s difficult to comprehend all that has changed, including myself. I wish I could say that I am a better person than I was a year ago and maybe in some ways I am. One thing is clear though; my eating disorder is still here and just as strong.

          I cut for the first time in three months yesterday. It was the worst self-harm I have ever inflicted upon myself but at the same time, I felt almost nothing. There wasn’t anything that upset me to cause this to happen, it just did. Lately I have been feeling so empty and it’s like no matter how hard I try to feel something, I simply can’t. Some people use cutting to escape from the pain while others use it to feel pain. I guess I am the latter in that I only feel a numbing inside of me and it’s not enough.

          The day following my cutting, I saw an ad online that was promoting self-harm awareness day. How ironic that this day came when I was feeling so bad. The goal of this day was to bring awareness to people who self-harm by writing ‘keep fighting’ on your arm. I did this myself but as I did, I felt that it was going to be a hard day for me to get through. I decided to ask for some help, something I never do. I sent out a text to about 12 of my friends and family, asking them to write ‘keep fighting’ on their arms and send it to me as a reminder that they are fighting for me. What I received by the end of the day was a miracle. I had received over fifty messages, Facebook posts, and calls from people reminding me of their love. My Facebook wall was covered with photos of people showing their arms. It was so unexpected and shocking for me to read what had been sent.

I remember one post in particular as I was scrolling through everything on my Facebook wall. I was writing down all of the names of people so I could thank them, when I came across a post from my sister. She and her four year old daughter had both written on their arms and left a message telling me how important I was in their life. My heart broke when I saw it. Viola is four years old and she may not understand what this day has meant to me, but she will someday. I envy her sometimes because life is so simple at her age. Why do children yearn so badly to be adults? A better question, why do adults wish they were kids again? I definitely believe that I grew up too fast and sometimes I just wish I could be a child again. The combination of things that I have had to face already in my first 18 years of life, most kids have not even come close to understanding. I just pray that when Viola becomes a teenager, I can be there to keep her on the right path because I don’t want her to have to encounter what I have. The pain that I have had to go through the past year, I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. You may think that cutting, depression, and an eating disorder are minor compared to what could be; such as cancer, suicide, or a heart attack. But you have to be in those shoes to truly grasp how much of a toll it takes on a person. I’m not saying that those illnesses are simple; I am just trying to get across the point that there are things that can be just as bad.

I am hanging on by a thread right now but I'm still fighting. To me, that shows enough about what all these factors combined can do to you. Something that has really been bothering me lately is how everyone tells me how strong I am. That statement is a flat out lie. I not strong, I'm far from it because if I was, I wouldn’t have an eating disorder now would I? The only thing worse that actually having an eating disorder is being pulled every which way by people who are trying to help you. I’m trying so hard to live up to the expectations that I have been given. I’m doing my best to fight it but the constant reinforcement of people telling me how strong I am is making me weaker. Sometimes I just want everybody to shut up so I can hear my own thoughts. I love that people want to help me but it’s hard to figure out how you feel when everyone else is forcing it on you.

If I am getting better and gaining weight, doesn’t that mean I’m weak? I am supposed to be fighting the urge to eat, not fighting my ability to have an eating disorder. I am a complete failure to myself and to Frankie if I don’t try to resist the urge to eat. You don’t hear people saying “Oh she’s eating? Wow, that girl is strong.” So what will make me strong then? I am terrified of getting better because I forgot how to live without my ED. Who am I without it? No one. For far too long this disease has been a part of my life, a constant stream in my head. I have no idea what I would do without it. I feel that this makes me a bad person though. Am I really that selfish that I put my own need to lose weight before my family? I have seen what effect Frankie has had on the people around me, but somehow it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m skinny, everything is going to be okay.

Board Games

A Summer of Change 

(Written in my Journal dated July 2012) 

          Its summer and I am spending it at my lake cabin in Paynesville, Minnesota. I never thought it would be possible to find a moment as peaceful as the one I am in. As we speak, I write this evening while lying on my dock and watching the sunset. There is a cool breeze, strong enough to keep my hair back and out of my face. Not one boat or any other sign of human life around is to be seen, except me. It’s me and the natural beauty of the world. And God. There are songbirds chasing each other around my head and in the distance, I squint and am barely able to make out the pelicans bobbing up and down, searching for their evening meal. As I lay curled up with a blanket at the end of the dock, I see the head of a snapping turtle popping up for air a few feet away, curious as to what the world above contains.

          I want to be a bird. Then I could be free and reckless and selfish. No one would care. I try to take in beautiful moments like this and be thankful for all that I have. But I can’t. I want to love my life and I want to be grateful for the path I have been brought to. Nothing comes to mind though. I can’t think of anything to say. Dear God, I am oh so flattered that you gave me the life I have. I was verbally abused and cheated on by someone I wasted two years believing was the one. I was manipulated by someone I trusted most and at one time called by best and truest friend. Oh, but wait, there’s more. Dear God, thank you for giving me celiac disease. I’m glad you allowed me to think it was okay to starve myself to death. For just standing there, watching me become addicted to cutting and numbers and food and scales and calories. I hate you for making me want to kill myself. I hate you.

          Or at least I did….

          What I hate most is that I don’t hate you at all. I should be angry and feel hurt. I was betrayed and felt completely alone in the world. I needed you. I think I understand now though. Sometimes people do bad things and are never justified for their actions while others remain in complete innocence but are losing ground to walk on. Maybe it is true that the worst things happen to the best people. If that is true, then you must still love me, even though I have blamed you for everything. Am I strong enough? Is that why you put all of this on me? I would like to think that that is true. We are all born good, I believe that. We all endure things as a child, a parent, and a friend. If you think about it, the human race has endured some pretty nasty things. And a lot of it we have done to each other. It is unrealistic to believe that all of us would ever be surrogates – saluting the Ten Commandments and staying far from temptation. I am one of the first to know that whether we like it or not, things change. People change. You can’t expect people to overcome life’s every day challenges of death, war, loss, anger, power, and evil – and be okay.

          God gave me these challenges because someone had to get them. He was confident in me, knowing I could handle the seemingly endless list of difficult obstacles. It’s like this burning itch inside of me, I can feel it. This life was handed to me. Yeah, I went through hell and I wanted to just give up on life, literally. Those so-called “bad” people have lost their footing and it may very well be that they never find it. I think giving one of them the set of obstacles I was given would have destroyed them. They wouldn’t have handled it the same. It’s not that I am so much stronger than they are or anything, but at that time that my life shifted, I was on track. I was free of any and all scars. Once the first one appeared, it was difficult. I saw a change in life around me and I even thought differently. Suddenly it was one hit after another and my scar was constantly being scratched at and re-opened, never getting a chance to heal. I don’t think I would have been able to get through it if I had already started out with scars. Bad things happen to good people because we are at a place in our lives where we can handle these hardships. We are being asked to lead and guide others to good, despite the horrific things that may happen. God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. He believes that good can and will come out of all of this.

          You may be reading this and disagree with what I say because you don’t believe in a higher power. That’s okay. I'm not here to re-arrange anyone’s belief system. I just need to write this, to know that there is hope. I'm not sure if finding hope is more for me or for others reading, but I wish that some larger-than-life idea can come out of this.

          Sitting in the calmness of this moment, I realize something. Now, it may not be the answer you’re looking for and it may not be the answer to the meaning of life but it’s my theory. And it’s one I'm going to build the rest of my life off of. Life is not so simple. You are not handed a board game with instructions. The rules and limits of this game we call life are for you to create. You have the ultimate power in deciding your game. You and you alone have the ability to determine the end. You decide how to win.