|Life's lessons, plain and simple.
||[Feb. 27th, 2007|08:07 pm]
Lately I've taken such faith in myself. I've learned to believe that what I must do will somehow get done and, most of the time, it does indeed. I've learned to procrastinate and to cease my compulsive planning of what each day MUST bring. The feuding, clashing voices I once called my conscience have been replaced by trusting consultants, seeking only to remind me of things I probably already know. What a change, considering my "conscience" used to be what defined my life. It flared up to its full devastating potential during the anorexia: I lost sixty pounds and almost met death through listening to it, constantly believing that through such compulsions I would one day be happy with myself...that the next pound I lost, or the one after that, would somehow bring self-satisfaction.
This is me, just months away from how bad it would get.
I remember praying for one healthy thought, one good feeling about myself. For years I doubted that I would ever be happy with myself, or with my life.
But, life's had a funny way of breaking me through all these barriers. I feel full of hope and happiness. I am at the prime of life, bursting with potential and hope for the future. I feel responsible. I know I can trust myself. I no longer feel perched on the slender rope between safety and despair. My safety is inside myself now, and despair is far behind me. When I think back on that time in my life I can barely believe it was my struggle--it feels more like a years-long movie I sat and watched; no more than a subject I studied in depth.
But no, that girl was me. She has grown and transformed into me: the current me, the one sitting here and writing this entry.
I do not regret what happened. If anything, I am grateful for the vivid image it has instilled in me. It is an image of weakness and near-destruction. In reminding me of all that life shouldn't be, the image instills in me all that my life should be and, in my mind, now is. It shows me everything I can strive for by revealing everything I've accomplished.
After recovery I drove myself mad for so long, wondering why I had been spared. What was it, I asked, that made me so much more deserving of life than all those who have died, or who have spent their whole lives in the downward spiral of relapse after relapse, never whole, never free of their own inner struggles?
The answer, I guess, is that I saw the way out and ran with it. Mama's efforts to save me opened my eyes and from there I fled from myself save my own life. I was so close to death...what made me realize then, and not sooner or too late? It's this, more than anything else, that makes me believe in God. I don't even know what God is, exactly. I just know that He/She/It is there. For all I know, God may be life itself because I worship life for all the tricky turns it's guided me through and all the hard lessons it's allowed me to learn. I believe that all the dreams, premonitions, and coincidences that were gifted to me along the way were God's/Life's way of saying: there's more you've got to live for. There's a reason behind all this.
All I can say is that I can feel the reason now, more than ever before. Four years later my life is just beginning.