Self destruction is a serious addiction. I have learnt over the past 6 months that addiction is far dangerous than I ever imagined, it’s consuming, it spreads like poison Ivy. It takes no prisoners, it doesn’t care who it hurts in it’s path. When life has no purpose, it becomes the sole purpose, the driving force, the reasoning behind every decision.
However, I have also learnt that addiction can be broken but only by one special thing.
I tried so hard to beat my eating disorder, my anxiety attacks, my compulsive personality by pleasing other people. I’m eating because you want me to, as soon as you take your eye off the ball, I’m returning to the safety of starvation. I’m trying hard not to have an anxiety attack because it will annoy you, but when I do have an episode I’m going to push you so far away that this is a true test of your love for me to see if you return. I’m going to plan everything because it makes me safe, I can’t deviate from my plan because I have strict boundaries and if you make me, anxiety takes over and here we go again. A never ending merry go round of self destruction and an over whelming feeling of sadness.
Then one day, for me, it all became clear. My anxiety attack was the worst ever, I was irrational but to me completely rational, I cried, every single day, for hours and hours. The tears started and I wept, I couldn’t stop. Sad; such a simple word but the hardest, loneliest place to be. I was unreachable, I actually didn’t care if the one person who I was pushing away actually left. Then I could continue to destroy myself in peace without any accountability.
But this didn’t happen, he didn’t go. He stayed, frustrated with me, but he stayed, hugged me, listened to my irrationality, tried to make sense of it. How on earth can you make sense of someone who actually just wants to destroy everything? Why would you want to stay? I asked myself that question so many times.
My wake up was heart test results. Maybe, just maybe, I am worth it.
My emotional state is causing my body to shut down, my heart cannot regulate my nervous system any longer and my recovery potential is severely limited. I am destroying my own body, and there is only me that can reverse this.
Bingo. There’s my reason, my special thing. I need to get well, for me. Not for my family or my gorgeous best friend or my dogs. But for me. I can break my addiction because I now want to. It’s ok to put myself first and make sure I meet my own needs because if I do this, I’m meeting their needs too.
If I go to the gym and leave my phone in the car, guess what! The world doesn’t stop turning. I can eat breakfast and guess what! I’m not fat. I can say “no, thank you, I don’t want to do that” and guess what! I don’t do it and we all get over it.
I am making baby steps into my recovery. Every day I’m amazing myself with adding something new. To the outside world, this may look so simple but to me, each small change that I can add then sustain is building me a life. A life where I can smile, love, enjoy each day and be grateful, oh so grateful for the life that I’m privileged to have.
I know there will be blips. I know that some nights, I won’t sleep properly and I will let the worry monster back in, I know that I may miss dinner just because an old habit it hard to break. I know I may lose it when plans change without warning but I also know that’s all ok. It’s life and I wouldn’t be me without these traits but I’m now strong enough to control them without them controlling me.