To read this blog in order start at July right at the top of the blog archive and progress down in order. This is an account of my battle with anorexia and bulimia

Sunday, 28 August 2011

is there an end?

At times I wonder if there is an end to it
In ways I feel as though I have fallen into this deep hole that I know I can get out of but I’m not so sure how to get out. Occasionally my fingers grip the edges and I am coming out of it, but then I realise it’s only external out of this hole. I am only touching happiness with my fingertips, and when they slip so does the happiness.
I went to visit Mim a few weeks ago up home. She had read this up to, I think, the beginning of this year. We had a discussion about the things I had written. She wasn’t very happy with a lot of it, claiming a lot of what I had written wasn’t as bad as I made it to be. It may not have been, but as we are different people she can’t assume that I feel the same as her about all things. What she found hard to grasp was the fact that although she thought she knew me so well, I in fact was keeping so many secrets from her. I can only apologise for that now, but in order to feed my own disease I needed to keep things in secret and pretend I was getting better. I never realised how much I could actually hurt those around me, but I did, and bad too. It actually cuts deep inside how much I hurt the, especially mum and Mim. I was so engrossed in myself that I never gave thought to those close to me. The only thoughts were “they are trying to make me eat” or “why can’t they just leave me alone”. Mim moved out of home so I assumed mum had no idea of my eating patterns. The nights she cried to me I thought she was just drunk. Mim informed me that day we talked, that mum was crying for me. She felt helpless, yet I thought she was only hopeless. There’s not much I can do about that now except pray that mum knows I wasn’t trying to distress her, or put her through pain. I am too scared at the moment to let go of that feeling though. I can’t say in a prayer out loud how I feel because I don’t want to know how I will feel. All I know is that I was only trying to hurt me, and unfortunately others got damaged in the process.
My mother was someone who cared deeply for me. Yet through my own selfishness I could never see that. I was looking through dark coloured glasses as I grew up, so what I have written is how I perceived things. I can’t say whether it is right or wrong, but I know that Mim has a different perspective on how things happened.
That’s the thing with life…no two events are ever perceived the same by anybody. Fear and anxiety are the emotional or felt reactions to our perception of life events.
Our personalities often are linked to how we see things and react to things. I discovered my temperament type and was not shocked at all. It clearly reflected all of my behaviours…analytical, self-disciplined, gifted, moody (extremely), self-centred, touchy, revengeful, critical, quiet, organised, practical, indecisive, fearful, worrier. A lot of the characteristics I wish I could change, and now that I am aware of them I can change!!!

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