Exhaustion consumed me. It became my new and only friend, as my previous friends, hunger and self hatred had given up on my it seemed. They no longer gave me solace from the pain. Exhausted and unable to fight my way forward. Where hunger and self hatred once gnawed was emptiness and isolation, a gaping black hole of nothing. In fact, this is exactly the moment I had been waiting for all my life. Now the choice. To jump into the abyss, to be swallowed whole by my own desperation, to sink into nothingness. It would be a comfort, an ending, a relief.
But there was a choice.
A choice?
A CHOICE!
I could turn around, and claw my way out, kick and scream and yell and .... fight. It was agonizing. It would be easier to let go and finally let my demons consume me.
But I was never good at the easy way.
What awaits if I turn around? Who will want me back, who will I be if I force the demons away and shed the skin of disease and seeming perfection I wore like a flashy designer coat? Why, oh why, would they want me if I showed myself, my true self, whoever that was?
It was an end or a beginning. The end was tempting, beautiful and alluring, the beginning painful, black and terrifying, but the voice at the beginning was one of love.Dropping the blade, I closed my eyes, turned around and began to pray.
This is my story. I suffered for 18 years with various versions of eating disorders and self-harm, excrutiating anxiety and crippling depression. I stepped to the very brink of life and death, and happily fought tooth and nail for life. It occurs to me that I could actually make a difference for someone else living this nightmare so I am prepared to share my story for the first time, as I am able. I have been out of treatment for 4 years now, and although I have times that life puts my "recovered" status in jeopardy, I win the battle everytime the war rolls around.
Embrace The Crazy
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