“Woke up today, afraid I was going to live..”

Suddenly, as though a divergent ray of sun had fragmented through the atmosphere and scuttled itself with a griming jolt into my window, I awoke from my frigid blackness, afraid I was going to live. As indubitably awful a notion as it appears to be, I could not help but find myself musing, hoping that the day would pass by quickly so that I could retreat back to the comfort and detachment of my peaceful blackness. Sitting here now, I chastise myself for these thoughts, knowing that I am only trying to escape the inexorableness of yet another difficult day. Since the self-proclaimed “start” of my recovery, I fear that I may be doing more harm than good, all the while knowing in my core that this simply cannot be the case.

“It’s all for nothing, you pathetic piece of scum. How dare you claim you are done with me? We both know you don’t know how to deal with anything, and nature knows you will not gain even the slightest ounce of weight.”

I perceive these thoughts, I feel their venomous accusations tenaciously drugging my head, and I attempt with what feeble energy I can still muster to rebut them. The manner in which I awoke this morning has been the mundane pattern that seems to devour my life lately: an abrupt annihilation of my subconscious state; ache radiating through my decaying body; and the tender feelings of regret, shame, and so much guilt.

I am failing, in my mind, to hold to my promises. I try but I do not try in the least. I took their pennies and left their buckets empty, and I curse the bloody soil on which I waste. The Voice is lurid, deafening, and it frightens me to no end. I attempt to not let it illustrate its power over me for everyone else to witness. I try to convince them that I am on the uphill stretch. I aim to show them that I am so much stronger than It. I am trying on the outside, but in retrospect I cannot pinpoint anything that I am doing. My weight, health, and sheer capability to put together a thought have all continued to denature, though I proudly quantified recently that I was finally going to fight and succeed.  Am I but just a liar? A traitor in the bloodiest of all aspects? I would desire to hope that I am not. I would like to believe and have faith in my soul that soon enough, I will wake up knowing exactly what my first diminutive step will be and how/where to start it. Unfortunately, I am aware that this is not the case in any gradation. There will be no magic day or time that I will extemporaneously transform into an aggressive soldier in the ED battlefield. I have to just go with what I know, and that is what I am unsure of how to do.

It is not that I do not want to do something, nor is that I am ignorant to the ailments of my condition. In spite of its complexity, the datum of the matter is that I simply do not know how to make myself do what I need to do, much less how to actually do it. Going to outpatient for the past five years has provided me with the groundwork for the road of recovery I have before me: medical knowledge of what toll my illness will/is taking on my body, nutritional guidance and learning, and hours of therapy to sort out how the prior week went and whatnot. The downfall of this cycle, however, is that despite the skills the nutrition and therapy once-a-week have provided me with thus far is not near enough. Sometimes, outpatient is not enough for an ED patient, and frankly, that patient is now me. I have spent my fair share of days running through my preceding day’s intake with my nutritionist, discovering where I slipped up and setting goals for myself in the days to come. With her guidance, I have created meals for me to go home and try and adjusted common fallbacks. When I am in her office, the world is full of possibilities—most notably the belief of my recovery—but once I am back in the comfort of my own home and discretion, however, very seldom do I have the audacity or forte to complete any of my brainstormed tasks and expectations. On the rare occasion that I do try, the after-effects on behalf of the ED are what send me spiraling into a manic urgency to even further restrict my intake. Along either pathway in which I travel on any given day, the irrevocability of guilt bore from my failure to do much of anything only further emboldens the subterranean blankets of my depression to sheathe me in the numbness of it all. The same goes for my therapy. In our weekly sessions, I have uncovered the many underlying reasons my ED has such control and have analyzed certain ED thought processes I commonly entertain. However, I have never opened word to the events of my past, nor am I able to deal with my emotions or events once I step foot out of that crowded one-story building.

I cannot help myself but to question how, exactly, do some people recover? Are there some that are just too far gone to be helped? Is it a matter of guts or strength, or is it a sheer luck of genetic code? Deplorably, I do admit that this has been on my mind lately. The difference in me now and my post-social-awareness/inspiration-activism self is that my passion and thereby willpower for recovery is blossoming and interminable: the fruit that which is sure to be manifested hangs effortlessly delicate from a willowed, tethered branch; yet, I am wedged in an imbroglio of roots and impenetrable soil, unsure of how exactly to maneuver my footwork to set me free.

~ by candyshele1204 on June 6, 2012.

11 Responses to ““Woke up today, afraid I was going to live..””

  1. I wish I could give you the answers and help you, I can only speak from my own experience of depression that for me is was a case of literally giving myself a slap and for want of a better phrase deciding I needed to face things head on and pull myself together, medication didnt help me it turned me into a zombie who felt no pain but didnt feel and pleasure in life either. I did not have the extra issues of an ED to handle though. the only practical thing i can offer is remember you can not heal yourself over night it is a long road with a thousand tiny steps looking to the full journey will be far to overwhelming set your self tiny baby steps only once you no longer notice them set the next. I dont know what your intake is down to at the minute but maybe something along the lines of for the first week one extra grape or a few raisins per day I know I am making it sound simplistic but I hope you get what I mean even if it is poorly worded. instead of punishing yourself you need to reward yourself with something non food related say if I achieve A this week I will buy myself a new cd or a new book The thing I do believe is that if you can beat the ED you will find it easier to get through the depression, the ED isolates you in that physically you are limited what you can do as you get better in body your mind will follow

    • This is absolutely true; I think acknowledging even the tiniest progress is something I really need to do. i need to swallow my fear and “just do it,” as they say. i have to think of what I want out of life, and let that be my guiding light. Thank you.

      • Once you start to feel a little stronger do you know what might actually help inspire you…and this is actually a little ironic…but a bucket list…you know the type of thing 100 places to visit before you die 100 books to read…I know to someone reading this that sounds a horrible thing to say but bear with me. pick ten places first near home then 10 in the same state another 30 in america then chose the other fifty around the world. Now okay maybe in your present physical state you could travel to the first few but probably not do much while there (correct me if I am wrong) but most of them will be dependant on you getting well to experience them…it might help focus on the journey ahead if you can put real destinations to help as milestones. and i have to say that with my depression i found lists really useful even in everyday life. I would write a list each morning of what i needed to do that day then however bad the rest of the day got I could cling to my piece of paper reassured by the ticks that I had achieved something that day…silly i know but sometimes silly things help

      • I do not think this is silly in the least. I actually think that it is something that actually could be very beneficial. I have never tried anything of the sort, but I do think that setting myself “goals” like that will help keep me motivated at times such as this. Thank you.

  2. You are getting weak, and so am I…

    I am not certain how should I do this. I don’t have any idea how ED feels, what is your thought process about it, and why you don’t eat at all. I have read about anorexia though, and I am innocent enough to make a small request of you…

    I am a foodie to the core. People eat for living, I live for eating, though I am going to be in the same country for the rest of my life, so it surely decreases the things that I can eat and relish. Help me do this.

    If you ever think about me, for whatever reasons, or just when you read my comment on one of your posts on wordpress or facebook, take a bite of your favorite eatable item. Once you do that, let me know what you ate, and describe the taste to me. Even though I will not get the exact taste of the thing, it will be as close as I can ever get to it, and would love to have it that way, after all something is always better than nothing,right?

    I know my request sounds like a childish one, but this is what I want from you. You have already done so much for everyone, hope this small request I make of you is not too much.

    And, don’t be afraid of living, our meeting is still pending, and currently, I can’t afford to fly there to meet you, so hold up. Don’t leave me broken or alone.

    (Sorry about this change in style, but all of a sudden, I am feeling low)

    All The Best..

    • Do not allow my stubmbles to define your strength. I am powerful in my weakness, because I can taste the pain so clearly. This means I am alive, and if I am alive, what failure do I have to claim?

      Your request, though something of which has never been asked of me before now, is something that intrigues me so. I have never taken that approach to thought processing, and I think it may possibly be quite theraputic, if you will.

      Dont be sorry; if anyone, it is I who can understand the spontanity of impending lowness.

      • Don’t forget to take a bite while reading this stuff.

        Allowing something to be my weakness or not is not in my hands, whats in my hand is to keep the weakness in check, and I assure you I will do it.

        I am glad that you liked my idea. So when are you beginning working on it? I was afraid I might say something odd and might hurt you, but thankfully that didn’t happen.

        Pain, it tastes so brilliant, doesn’t it? The more I live through it, the more alive I feel. Its intoxicating. The numbness, the bruised hands, heavy head, and the only thought of freeing yourself from all of it….

        Yeah, I should not talk about lowness to you, cause even in my darkest hours, I haven’t been there where you are right now, or maybe I have been there, but how can the lowness be compared? Everyone has their own levels of lowness I guess.

        You are the lucky one who is at least freely writing about it. I on the other hand, can’t even write it, cause I am supposed to forget it, since I am over that now. But does the feeling ever die? NO!!

        Then what about writing it down? Heck, how I can even think about it. How many people are aware about it, 2 maybe 3 and I am planning to make it public? That too on a blog where people who know me visits regularly. People from School, College and now Job.

        Should I assume anonymity then? No. That would not help me either, cause anonymity will meet being afraid to face it heads on, something I am not going to do and the things will be unreal, and the whole purpose of coming clean will be a lie in itself.

        A fight of my own, with myself. Something I can’t win, and something that I will not be defeated in. Irony.

        All the Best and keep me posted regarding your progress on the approach.

  3. If the voice speaks to you in a terrible manor, try and detach yourself from it, treat it as a separate entity and tell it to leave you alone. Laugh to its face, realize its useless power, tell yourself you are God’s child and nothing can harm or keep you captive.
    What do you do to keep yourself busy? Volunteer somewhere (like the humane society or a camp for kids with special needs…) if you are not working or keeping busy there will be too much time to think. Doing something that gives to others will help you feel better about yourself.
    Are there support meetings anywhere where you can be with others who are in your same situation and are striving to get better?
    I have not gone through what you are going through but I’ve been through a terrible depression that included almost constant obsessive thought. Therapy and medication helped, but the best progress I made was through joining a support group that included others in my similar situation. Good luck, I’m praying for you….xoxo

    • Yes, ma’am, you are absolutely correct. Detaching myself from It is something I forget to do so often. I must remember that it is NOT me. Currently, since summer began, I have had too much time to think alone as I waited on impending job applications to be reviewed. However, I finally was hired at a great little boutique and begin work on Saturday, which will help tremendously. I have also applied at many volunteer services in my community, but many will not take me until I am 18. Unfortunately, the only meeting in close proximity to me are over an hour and a half away, and once a week, the evenings of my doctor appointments. Helping others is what gives me strength, and it is what helps me feel like I do have a purpose. Thank you. ❤

      • You are doing what you are supposed to be doing and making the best of it! I love your writing and think you are very talented. Keep writing and sharing and we will keep praying for you!

      • Yes ma’am, this I can promise to you. Thank you. ❤

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