I want myself back. The real me or whoever I was when around 2014. That healthy person who embraced healing in her own way... And did it with gusto even through the horrible ambivalence and unspeakable pain and hoped to inspire others with being open about the entire thing. If you knew how she thought, there would be nothing to be inspired by. What happened...? I feel like that person was brutally murdered and forgotten...but by herself; in other words...my eating disordered and anxious brain took over and now I’m left with a mess that I had hoped to never feel again. It’s not in the form of what I’m even used to. It’s just as insidious and invading, but it’s a different thing... but leads to the same kind of eternal place. I feel far from such a place because I have my average appearance to keep me in enormous denial of my mental instability the majority of the time. It hit me again today though. I want myself back. Not the sick one anymore since that person I can’t breathe around, but I mean the one who was genuine, gentile, insightful, optimistic, funny in addition to the self deprecating ‘jokes’ and not those alone, creative, spontaneous, warm, always ready with ideas and ways to help people. I feel like those things are getting eaten by my disorder, the more I unintentionally but consistently resign myself to it.
I want out of this.
I want to start over with things, and go back to the time when I was the strongest in my recovery, which like I said was probably in 2014. I can’t go back to any time in the past or the future, but I can try like I was trying then. I can do what I was doing then, but adapted and relevant to my current age and circumstances.
Is it weird that I’ve been watching some of my old healthier emily vegan flower videos from around 2014ish and thinking “I want that again. that’s literally...who I am....that’s actually me.” I don’t know what I am right now, but I know I need the little bit younger but wiser and healthier me to muster up the power to stand up to the part of me that wants to just make myself at home with my (mainly different than before) disordered behavior.
This hurts. I’m not staying in this stagnant rut. I’m pulling myself towards what I did when I was stronger, adapting it to myself as I evolve, and letting myself be me.
This doesn’t mean I won’t hurt again, because how would I know? It means I want to try but really try because I don’t like where I am now. It’s not one bit ‘satisfying’ or ‘comfortable’ to me. Just the opposite.