And a terrifying ton of tonal repetition.
It’s snowing outside today; this makes it the first time New England has actually looked like New England this winter and I think it’s beautiful. I secretly love the snow, but only when it’s new and falling, because then it glow this sort of ethereal white and is completely untouched by humanity. After awhile, though, it starts to melt and harden into ice, as well as grow discolored from dirt and sand and being exposed to the world in general.
I feel like that’s my eloquently worded, metaphoric way of describing myself. Once upon a time I thought nothing negative of my appearance; I was even hyperconfident in it. And I felt happy, safe, and secure. Even though I can’t physically recall that time, I know it existed somewhere. But then life got in the way and broke me into pieces that shattered like glass and were lost everywhere. Putting me back together would be impossible, not only because of that, but because of how tarnished I’ve become from the words and actions of everyone around me. Even now, in treatment, the barbed words and hateful actions of others still affect me. Even now, two months into my treatment for anorexia.
Two whole months. That’s hard to believe. I’ve been to partial, residential, inpatient, and even the hospital, and my progress has been minimal, if noticeable at all. I know that before treatment, I was in a negative mindset and definitely a downwards spiral, but it feels like it hasn’t gotten any better. And that’s concerning. Sometimes I worry my eating disorder has so much control over me that I act on its desires and needs rather than what I truly desire and need. There isn’t much that’s more frustrating or frightening than that.
It’s been a roller coaster of a ride. I’ve been up and I’ve been down. I’ve been motivated and happy, and I’ve been sailing a ship with no sails and depressed and anxious as anything. And I’ve been bounced around from level of treatment to level of treatment, which is hard enough to deal with on its own.
Right now is one of those low points. I’ve been dealing with a lot of people sort of leaving me behind or on the sidelines lately. I’ve also been feeling some of my strongest worst emotions ever, as strongly as I can recall. And I’ve been questioning what is the right journey for me, whether the path I’m on right now is more for me and my health or for my eating disorder and its twisted desires. Which is hard to comprehend, considering sixty some odd days is hardly a short time. It’s a big chunk of my life to dedicate to something that often seems futile.
Speaking of days, in twenty-one of them I’ll be turning twenty. Three weeks until I’m no longer a teenager, and instead of that being a happy occasion tinged with nervousness, it’s like it brings me virtually no joy at all. Part of me doesn’t want to be in treatment on my birthday, but a greater part of me knows that I actually need it so desperately I can’t quite convey it. Perhaps after I turn such a big chapter in my life over to a new, fresh sheet of paper, I might be more prepared to conquer my demons. I don’t know.
I have a family meeting in about an hour. We’re going to be making some pretty big decisions during that time and I’m going to have to do a lot of self advocating. That’s something I’m just starting to learn how to do, and its newness makes it really difficult. But I know that if I’m ever truly going to beat anorexia, that’s a component of my mental strength and willpower I’m really going to need to be exceptionally capable in. So today is a good place to start.
I’ll keep you all updated on what happens today as best I can; it might be another big day full of changes. We’ll see.
Much love, as always ❤