Thursday, March 20, 2014

Lets fight this thing!

So I’ve been secretly having a bit of a relapse. 
There we go I said it, the cat is out of the bag, but neither the cat nor the bag is needed because it stops right here
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been out of Exeter and surrounded by family or if I’ve just seen sense but I am not prepared to fall down this rabbit hole again. 
Things have been SO out of control recently that I predictably started using my one and only coping mechanism to get by again. Self-destruction. That way, in my head, nothing and no one can hurt me as much as I hurt myself, therefore if I am already hurting I am invincible. Wrong, but that is how my mind works. 
(Once again its crazy when you realise that an Eating Disorder really doesn’t have much to do with eating in the end)
I got wrapped up in the feeling of instability, that nothing in life was stable, people come and go and with it so does happiness and safety. It felt (and still does) that it was one loss after another, so what was the point?
If I had nothing to fight for then I may as well give in to the devil in my head, I didn’t have the energy to fight, I didn’t have the want or motivation. In fact having a small relapse gave me something to focus on other then the shit that was going on. Gave me a way out of dealing with things.  I didn’t have to think about stuff going on in Exeter, or my feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, the death of my Nan, the final part of my divorce going through, the loneliness, the looming date of my incomplete dissertation, not being able to help people, not being e-bloody-nough…….the list is endless. I know right? Woe is me. 
Now don’t get me wrong this all sounds very thought out and planned. It wasn’t. Its only now upon reflection that I realise what was going on. No one plans to get into such a bad headspace that they turn to self-destruction to cope, no one.  It just happened, because it’s become habitual. I suppose when I first moved to Exeter, yes things were hard, but I was happy, therefore I didn’t need a coping mechanism. Now things are bloody tough and relapsing just happened, it’s the way I’ve coped for so long, turn inwards on myself.
Because of the things I have learnt during my inpatient stays, and because of all the amazing advice and love my friends and family have given me (I hate to name names because you are all amazing but Ella, Alice and Emily especially, you guys have seriously kept me safe, thank you) I can see that I can cope in other ways. 
I DO NOT have to resort to my eating disorder for security. 
I DO NOT have to show that I am struggling on my body, I have a voice and one I can use, one that if I find the right people will be listened to. 
I am turning this around because there is more to life. When I was coming home for the funeral this week I was worried that my family would notice that I had become a touch smaller in size, and it made me sad. I remember the time I came home and my brother said to me ‘Sami you’re looking really good, it’s so nice to not see you for a while then see you looking really well’. Now my brother is a man of few words, hugely sentimental and supportive but just not through words, so this meant a lot to me. In fact those words gave me a hell of a lot more sense of pride then seeing decreasing numbers ever could. It made me sad to think that when my family don't see me for a while they fear what I'm going to look like when I do eventually turn up.
So I have decided that, although it’ll be super uberly hard, I’m getting back on the recovery train.  

I will find other coping mechanisms. 

I will use my voice and speak up. 
I will not give in to the screaming in my head. 
I will fight and fight and fight. 
I DO have things to fight for, and on the days where I convince myself of otherwise, convince myself that my friends and family and the world of DMP would cope without me, then I will remind myself that if I can’t fight for that/them that I have the very basic, simple, thing to fight for. 

Whos with me?

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