Dear
Anorexia
I
know the last 12 weeks have felt like a war zone to both of us. Twelve weeks ago you almost had complete
control; you had taken my health, my job, my relationships, my energy, my
ability to laugh – or even to smile. You
weren’t far from taking my mind, my body … my life.
You
had beaten me down to right where you wanted me; you had the power, you called
the shots. You influenced every thought,
every decision, every waking moment. You
were so strong that its taken three months in hospital, the Mental Health Act, seemingly
endless battles, tears and despair to finally feel my true self (who I thought
was gone forever) re-emerging and starting to take back the reins. I’ve felt
the intensity of your fear, panic and anger as my mind and body have become
stronger and healthier. I’ve heard your
voice hissing at me – persistently – like a child tugging on her mothers’
sleeve. You feel yourself growing weaker
with each passing day - I feel it too. I
want you to know that no matter how hard you try, how loudly you scream, how
insistent you are, what you promise me – I am not going back now. I have gone
too far now to turn back. The life I
thought I’d never find again, the life that I had grieved for and resigned
myself to losing – is now within reach.
I’m not stopping here either; you know me, I never do things ‘halfway’. I am going to continue to move forwards, to
proceed step-by-step on this path of wellness.
Although
you’ve been my closest ‘friend’ for so long, this new life ahead of me has no
room for you. Perhaps your shadow will remain over me for some time – maybe my
whole life – but that’s all it will be, a shadow. It’s my life, not yours. I decide now.
And
I have decided. I will sacrifice the
safety, security, sense of worth and the illusion of success you gave me for
something else. I will sacrifice it for
reality – for a life that will unfold before me as I keep moving down this
path. So even though you stole so much
(including some things I will never get back), before I say goodbye I want to
thank you. I want to thank you for being
my anchor, for being there for me all the times I felt so empty and alone. Thank you for making me feel like I had a
point in life and for ultimately helping me to discover a greater sense of
purpose and meaning. Thank you for
showing me how strong and determined I can be. Thank you for teaching me what
is truly important; for making it so crystal clear what really matters in life;
for showing me what is lasting and worth living for.
Because
that’s what I am going to do now; I am going to live this
wonderful-terrifying-beautiful-imperfectly-perfect life that I have been given
… without you in it. There simply isn’t
a place for you in kind of future I am stepping into; it is a future filled
with love, family, freedom, happiness and inner peace; a future with space for
nursing, spontaneity and strong relationships … a future in a healthy body in
which I can fully experience the world and feel at home in, and a mind that I
can trust and that treats me with respect and kindness …
It
is a future that I will one day look back on and smile.
So
anorexia, it’s well and truly time to say goodbye. Goodbye to your false reassurance, your empty
promises, your soothing voice. Goodbye
to the skinny frail body you shaped for me; to the jutting out hip bones, to
every rib I could touch with my fingers; goodbye to the strict rules you
enforced so harshly, to the lies and beliefs you brainwashed me with and made
me think were my own … goodbye to being a prisoner within my own mind … goodbye
to the illusion of control and self-control you had fed me.
I
know there will be times when I miss you and wish you were there to wrap me up
again in your arms … but I know that everything you gave me was only an
illusion, that I can never find fulfillment in you.
Goodbye
Anorexia.
Goodbye.
Sincerely,
Kas
