Slip and Slide

Yesterday I slipped. Today I kept sliding.

I've lost my footing on the road to recovery. What defines relapse? Am I there? I don't want to go back. I need a distraction during those dark times - something to pull me away from the magnetic force which is driving me to self-harm. The appeal is too strong, the scent too alluring. My mind races, cascading from thought to thought desperately hoping to land on something that will pause the process, but for nothing. By this point my instinct and urges have already taken over my rational side and before me in the mirror stands Ed. 

I am fat. I am ugly. My legs are too big, my back is too wide. I want out of my body. I want out of this world. I don't want to be confined anymore, restrained from reaching my full potential by this horribly flawed body.

Dismorphia. 

No.

I laugh on the inside while cringing simultaneously - I know what I look like, mirrors don't lie. I'm not crazy. I see what is. Stop telling me I don't. Stop looking at me like that. I'm almost there. I'm almost perfect. Just a little further.

Today I slipped. I'm still sliding.

Ready or Not...

Well this is it. End of the road. Game over. Time's up. Ready or not, you have to leave.

It hit me like a bus. "I have some news." Never words you want to hear from your therapist. "Further treatment has been denied." They will allow me to fill out my discharge papers tomorrow, other than that I'm gone as of today. 

My eyes swell up and tears run down. My throat closes. I'm not ready. My hands are trembling, my feet are numb. I'm not ready. I wish I'd never come. I wish I'd never tried. Things continue, right on schedule, but nothing is the same for me. I don't see the point in trying anymore. I don't have any choices. My life will return to exactly how it was before - I don't have time to change it. On the plus side I can now exercise as much as I want, drink occasionally, and enjoy as much caffeine as my body desires...at any hour of the day. I can go to the bathroom alone and not have to count if I do. I'm transitioning from this life of recovery to a poisonous environment that suffocates, and eventually, engulfs me. 

Process my feelings? I'm pissed off. Insurance is validating this notion I have that I'm fine. 

I'm fine. I'm not ready. Two contrasting thoughts. Two different minds. Two separate minds. Two voices. Two personalities. I want to spiral off and fall further just to stick it to insurance. I want never slip up again to prove to everyone I'm stronger than this. I want to cry. I am crying. I'm not ready. At the same time I smirk. I can use this to my advantage. I can go right back to where I was - blissfully ignorant and ignorantly happy. Isn't that what I want? No, not at all! Right?

Ready or not, here I come.

Approval Rating, Vantage Point

My approval rating has dropped three points.

How does one go about determining an "approval rating"?

Sticks and stones, be popular, I'm rubber you're glue, who's who: so much emphasis is placed on beauty, popularity, strength, and success. Where am I on your scale; do I measure up? Do I care? Of course I care! I'd love to lie and fool you into believing I don't, but I have a disorder that screams otherwise.

I want to be seen. I want to be heard. I want to be validated. I want that approval. I am plagued by the never-ending desire to be approved of. Personally, I can honestly say I have never truly lacked in self-confidence or self-esteem, but I feel like nothing I've done in my life has been noticed; nothing has warranted a reaffirming response.*

*Disclaimer: I am not asking for pity, sympathy, or reassurance, I am simply expressing feelings and emotions that may have contributed to my eating disorder. Yes, I am well aware that these feelings are most likely skewed due to my, let's say, "unique" mind, as warped and twisted as it might be.

An approval rating all depends on where you're looking at the situation from: your vantage point. What I must come to realize and accept is, the only person whose opinion actually counts is mine. Not yours, or his, or hers. Just mine. I'm not running for president (yet). I have nothing to prove. Throughout this journey, this process, I have reestablished my identity, reintroduced me to myself.

My approval rating has jumped 97 points. 

It's all about perspective. 

In this Moment

"The past is gone
The future is not here yet
In this moment
I am free of both"

Yet still I'm unsettled
I'm stuck in the now
Frozen in the present
Lost in the moment

The past is irrelevant
The future unknown
In this moment
My mind dwells on both

I push them aside
I sit down and write
I'm brought to the here
Which is blurry, unclear

I am gone
I am not here yet
In this moment
I am lost

Gone in the past
Here in the future
In this moment
I am lost

Where did I come from
Where will I go
In this moment
I am free of both

Feel the warmth of the room
The light noise in the air
The sensation of an inhale
I can be free

Trust the past which is gone
Anticipate the future to come
Because in this moment
I am ready to be free

Cheshire Cat

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" Alice asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know." Alice answered. "Then" said the cat, "it doesn't matter."

Everyone knows where they want to go, whether they admit it or not. "I don't know" is simply a distraction, a smoke and mirrors type thing. Behind every "I don't know" is a sense of denial, a lie of sorts. Either you know but haven't admitted it to yourself or you've admitted it to yourself but don't want others to know. There is no such thing as being bad at making decisions. You might not like the consequences of said decisions but that doesn't change the fact that you know what you want, you know what you'd like the outcome to be. Perhaps you're too focused on what others think about the choices or what others think about you.

Where do you want to go?

I know.