Weāre not often provided them in life but from time to time everyone gets this one moment of clarity. Where all your problems suddenly seem fixable and your dreams seem achievable. It feels like a rush of logic that just comes to you and tells you that you can do it, itās not as hard as youāre making it out to be. This clarity is such a comfort and such a blessing when it comes that you feel for a second that your eating disorder, or to be more general, any kind of mental illness is over.
I honestly cannot tell if people relate to this, or have this moment of clarity themselves. Maybe Iām just humouring myself by being convinced that there are other people out there stupid enough to fall for a moment that is essentially just self-punishment. This clarity is cruel and when its gone it leaves me worse than before it arrived. I cling to it like a desperate partner. I tell myselfĀ āThis is it.ā TheĀ āitā being the end of my disorder. No more binging, no more purging, no more hating myself more than anything ever.Ā
I think thatās why I want this clarity to be real. Iāve hated myself for so long that it scares me. Emotions are powerful and the hatred I feel fuels me and at the same time exhausts me. For as long as I can remember, before my eating disorder, way before I knew what bulimia was, there was this seething rage living inside me. I woke up every day and it was there, causing me to lash out at others. I can recall a moment in my childhood where I looked into the mirror, staring forever at what I saw, hating what I saw, wishing what I was seeing was dead. It was my first ever panic attack and I was 11. I shook, I cried, I hit, slapped, hurt myself. Why was I this ugly, chubby, disgusting little pig when all my friends were slender, cute and awkward little girls? I must have done something horrible in another life and I was being punished for it. As Iām writing this Iām surprised at how well I can accurately remember this moment. I guess it just serves to prove my point about emotions being powerful, with hatred and anger being in the lead.
I thought at that time, and if Iām being honest with myself, I still do believe that this was normal. Everyone hates themselves. Only egotists and narcissists are in love with themselves and thereās nothing worse than being self-involved. I cry for this little girl. Why didnāt you give yourself a chance? 11 years old your mind should have been occupied with so much more. You should have given yourself a chance. Iāve lost so much time, and as I go on living Iām constantly aware of the life I am losing to bulimia.
As my life went on my hatred simmered and transformed into something darker. I no longer lashed out, which was good, I instead kept it all in, not so good. I wasnāt supposed to have problems, they were distracting and not fun. My teen years were supposed to be about fun, so if I couldnāt get rid of these feelings, Iād push them away and hope they would leave on their own. Everyone knows how that works out. For me, itās years of trauma and not being able to sit through a single therapy session without bursting into tears. Who has ever been able to successfully avoid dealing with their emotions anyway?
Iāve lived for a long time, too long, hating myself. My judgment is so clouded when it comes to anything in relation to me. It affects my relationships, my work, my livelihood. This is why Iām stupid enough to fall for that clarity. Itās like theres a part of me somewhere that is trying to give me a chance. It may only last an hour or if Iām lucky, a day. Iāll do as much as I can because I can fight against this thought all I want but I owe it to myself. I owe it to the unfair treatment I inflicted on myself at just 11 years of age and I owe it to me now because for fucks sake, I canāt be that bad a person. I surely cannot be so bad that I donāt deserve some basic compassion?
Iāve tried this method that was suggested to me, where I took the thoughts of myself that I have and the thoughts I tell myself on a daily basis and I put them in the words of another person and that person is regurgitating the words to someone I care deeply about. If a person were to say any of those things to a friend of mine I would flip, I would hurt them. The method works for a minute before I begin to laugh at the idea of being friends with myself. I couldnāt be friends with myself. Iāve hated that girl for so many years.Ā
I have to laugh again though, because a friend is always there for you. A friend is everything you could want and need in your life.
A friend is also someone who could provide you with clarity.
