As I entered the world of blogging, merely because I wanted to get it, being my bulimia and my quest to conquer it, out in the open, I turned to my husband and simply asked, "what do you do with a blog, how often can I post?". I had no idea what was right and what was wrong. This was a whole new world for me. I only knew that I wanted to hold myself accountable for my actions and I wanted a place to throw my thoughts to, not really expecting a reply. It was kind of like the movie, You've Got Mail, when Meg Ryan asks a question stating that she didn't want a reply but she wanted to throw it out to the universe. Well I wanted to blog about my battle and throw it out to the universe because my experience of writing in a diary, on a stupid piece of paper, has forever been tarnished in a way that maybe one day I will share, but for now I can pick and choose what I want to be made public and it is one story, one horrible disease, that I know I am not alone in fighting. So tonight I am sitting here and I have something to say. Something to share that I feel is important. Something I don't expect a response to but something that means a lot to me.
I have an astonishingly great friend who has also been described by another friend as an old soul. She has a way of words and a way with wisdom that one can only dream of at the age of 30. You might listen to her advice and her words of encouragement and, without looking at or even knowing her, you would think she had endured a lifetime of experience that only an old sould would know. But, my friends, she is the same as you and me. She is young and she is blessed with a gift. A gift of pure insight into a universal knowledge that I can only hope that one day I am gifted with the wisdom she possesses. So when I turned to her last night in one of my darkest moments and I confessed to her that I was in a deep dark place and I needed a friend without judgement and needed support because I was feeling as if I had hit rock bottom, she not only replied with the obvious that she was here for me, also reminding me that I need to not pop all of my tires and to stop before I set the car afire...But today she brought me even more.
I had the privilege of sitting with my good friend today and she tearfully asked me what she could do to help me. Not just shower me with the obvious that any friend might say, such as, it will all be OK and blah blah blah, but what can she do to also help hold me accountable. She then said one thing that makes a lot of sense. "I want to help you but I can only understand so much. I can't fully understand exactly what you are dealing with, I can try, but I can only understand so much..." Now I might be paraphrasing BUT she is right. No one can fully understand what a person with an addiction or eating disorder is really going through, unless he or she has physically and personally been there. The reason I mention this is because of a woman, whom I have recently reconnected with, who herself has fought an eating disorder. I admire this woman to an extent that I do not think even she knows. I have always thought of her over the years and she is exceptional in her own ways. She wrote to me the other day and in her unique wisdom brought up a valid point. In her words, "I do get it - and know from experience that the only people that truly do are people that have gone through it. Not that other can't be sympathetic and supportive - but they just . . . . . can't. . . . get it. Not all of it anyway - and there's so much that we just can't put into words too. I don't think any two people on this journey ever have exactly the same story or parts. . . but there are enough similarities that we really can understand what the other person is thinking or feeling." She hit it on the nose. We don't have the exact same story or parts but there are enough similarities to understand a fellow being who is undertaking the same battle as you. That is not to say that when you choose to open your soul and your pain to a friend whom is healthy, they cannot understand, but you trust that they can have enough sense and compassion to try and understand what it is you are battling with. They don't see you as weak, although you might, but they see you as a strong being who is fighting for a better future.
My friend, who almost brought me to tears, but I had to deflect that moment that was so promisingly beautiful and releasing, gave me this book. It is a book that is meant to bring you inspiration daily kind of like an Al-anon book or maybe even AA. I opened it to a random page and the reading hit me like lightning. It stated, "Life is a process of letting go, letting go of conditions we can't control, letting go of people-watching them move out of our lives, letting go of times, places, experiences. Leaving behind anyone or anyplace we have loved may sadden us, but it also provides us opportunities for growth we hadn't imagined. These experiences push us beyond our former selves to deeper understandings of ourselves and of others.
So often those experiences that sadden us, that trigger pain, are the best lessons life is able to offer. Experiencing the pain, surviving the pain that wrenches us emotionally, stretches us to new heights. Life is enriched by the pain. Our experiences with all other persons thereafter are deeper. Instead of dreading the ending of a time, the departure of a loved one, we must try to appreciate what we have gained already and know that life is fuller for it....Today will bring both good-byes (to the purging) and hellos (to a healthy future). I can meet both with gladness."
I chose to look at the writing in my own personal struggles of my eating disorder. I cannot control many events or people of my life but I can let go. There is much growth available to me and possible for my future. My experiences sadden me and trigger pain, inevitable pain from which suffering is optional, and I am able to learn from them. My life is enriched from my pain as I am developing the tools to grow. My life will bring good-byes and hellos and I can choose to say good-bye to the disease and hello to happiness. I am strong enough to say, without a doubt, that I cannot do it alone. I am grateful for my support system and to be exact I am grateful for that one lone friend who, today, sat me down and tearfully expressed her concern, and non-judgemental loving support. It is moments like today that give me the strength to continue in my fight, no matter how challenging, and attempt to relinquish doubt that I WILL be OK...
No comments:
Post a Comment