Do you ever forget why I started this blog in the first place? I do. Sometimes. It becomes so easy to write about this and that and all the happenings of my week, and for those of you who still follow, thank you. But this blog isn't really about this and that and all the happenings of my week. It's about my recovery from bulimia. There's that word again. The heart of the matter.
The elephant in the room, so to speak, in more people's lives than you can ever imagine. The silent screamer, the liar, the deceiver. The Eating Disorder.
This spring I had to work at the annual Diversity Health Fair to promote summer camps, and each year a dance company trains dancers to perform at the fair. I was taking a little walk-about checking out other booths and passed by the stage as a young girl, maybe 12 or 13, did a slow, graceful dance to a song that immediately caught my attention. It was a song called 'Sophie', a song that I tucked away into my memory in order to look it up on YouTube. I forgot about it of course until something reminded me of it, so I looked it up the other day. I want to share it with you...
Did you listen to the words? Did you get through the song? It's hard for me sometimes. I alternate between shutting down and ignoring what is being sung and relating to it all too well.
The part that kills me is when it talks about Sophie's sister crying because her father says she is dying. In my years of being bulimic I did think about people other than myself, but I do think a part of me closed off to the fact that I was hurting others. I could barely deal with the fact that I was hurting myself.
Yesterday I went to the aquarium and stopped to use the public restroom before entering the main viewing area. The stall I chose had vomit everywhere. At first I was repulsed. Then I was heartbroken. And I stayed that way for awhile. I had one of those freaky this-used-to-be-me moments. I could actually see myself there, bent over, dying inside. I didn't stay in that stall for long, but I stood there in the doorway long enough to say a prayer for that girl, for that girl who might have had a bout of morning sickness, or food poisoning, or heat exhaustion or any of those other things that make one nauseous, but I prayed especially for that girl who quite possibly stuck her fingers down her throat and felt that sweet relief mixed with confusion, anger and hurt come pouring out of her. How heartbreaking.
How that used to be me is so crazy. I don't feel in ANY way above it or beyond it but I feel far from it somehow...like it was so long ago that the horrible memories are slowly fading and those memories are being replaced by the outcomes of all the lessons that I have had to learn along the way. The lessons are far from finished being learned, being internalized, being accepted, and being put to use, but I am getting there. Every day is a step closer.
Wednesday is a special day. To those of you who have followed along thus far, stay tuned.
You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know.
You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact,
and remember that life's a great balancing act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes!
You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed)
-Dr. Seuss
~C~
