Dear Angie,
I miss you. Thinking about old times has really shown me what an amazing person you were. You were cheerful, compassionate, and extremely determined. You knew how to have fun. You could be optimistic.
I need you right now, badly. I have so much compassion and fear for you for what you are about to experience. I'm frustrated by your innocence and naitivite--these things will make the upcoming months the worse you have ever experienced.
You are a worthy person who has so much potential. Your offbeat ways of thinking make you a unique and interesting individual. You care about your friends.
Be who YOU are. Don't adapt your personality to mesh better with others. Allow yourself to have feelings, bad days, and needs. Stop judging and comparing yourself to everyone else--let yourself just be.
You are needed in this world. You matter. You have so much in your life right now--don't take it for granted.
You're not perfect. You have insecurities. You have doubts. That's okay. That's normal. You are loved. Hard times will end and happy days are in your future.
Surround yourself with people you love and trust. Don't concern yourself with those that aren't truthful. You know who you need in your life.
I miss you. You were such a joy to have in my life. I hope I can meet you again, real soon.
Love,
Angie
I told my therapist today about how looking at my yearbooks was like looking at the life of a different person. I told her how, when seeing those pictures of myself, I wanted to shout "ENJOY WHAT YOU HAVE NOW! DON'T TAKE ANYTHING FOR GRANTED! YOU HAVE A PERFECT LIFE--DON'T FUCK IT UP!!"
Therapist: "It sounds like you have a lot of compassion for that girl in those pictures. Maybe you should write a letter to her and tell her how you feel."
So after a long, tearful therapy session (I guess I couldn't keep my non-crying streak going), I sat down and wrote the letter. I really, really do miss her. I even said to my therapist today "I want to be myself again. I miss me."
But you know what? Today is day 26 here at the HG and it's been 25 days since I've acted on any of my behaviors. That's pretty damn amazing. I couldn't tell you the last time I'd gone 25 days without any Ed behaviors before coming here.
I think it's a good sign on the road to recovery where you reach a point where you can actually LAUGH at what you used to do. When Laura and I were driving to the gym today, we honestly were laughing so hard and the things we've done that I thought I was gonna pee my pants.
Some highlights:
Me: "Oh, my God! This one time, during a binge, I ate an ENTIRE PACKAGE OF OREOS!!!"
Laura: "Just ONE? Damn, I'd always get two--and then make sure I drank it with whole milk!!"
Me: "I hope they don't make us eat brownies. That was one of my binge foods."
L: "Not me. Their consistency was too sticky. You had to make sure you had plenty of milk if you were going to binge on those."
We talked about how we made food MORE fattening if we were going to binge on it.
Me: "Yeah, I've done cereal. Lucky Charms, Captain Crunch..."
Laura: "Yeah, this one time, I only had Raisin Bran, so I made sure to sprinkle extra sugar on it!!!"
Me: "I'VE DONE THAT TOO!! Because, please, if I'm gonna binge, it's not gonna be on health food!"
We talked about how we'd be completely broke after buying all our binge food ("If I made $100 a day, that's 4 good binges right there!") and some of our most embarrassing purging moments ("This one time, when I OD'ed on laxatives...").
After our conversation, I felt SO MUCH better. I was still thinking about it when we got to the gym, so I randomly started laughing all by myself when I was on the elliptical. I looked kind of manic and creepy--working out and giggling--but the only one there was this extremely sweaty old man. And please, someone who sweats that much has NO room to judge others.
Tonight was the night I'd been dreading all week: PIZZA NIGHT!!! I had trouble concentrating during yoga this morning because of it. Seriously. I was in downward dog thinking "Fuck. Pizza tonight?? Put a bullet in my brain." But then later, at the ANAD meeting, I was thinking "I don't want this in my life anymore. Shut the fuck up, Ed. Two slices won't kill me. It will help me, you fuck." So I ate it. And I'm still here. And I feel FINE. I'm not freaking out. The conversation at the dinner table tonight certainly helped in that regard (I'll only say--dildos are NOT allowed here at Harmony Grove!) and I was able to draw my attention away from the food.
I just hope hope hope HOPE! this means good things. That I'm on my way to a healthier and happier existence. I can look at the girls here and think "My God. These people are beautiful, hilarious, intelligent women. Why the FUCK would they ever feel bad about themselves??"
There's the musician who got a scholarship to study across the world at a music conservatory.
There's the mother of 3 who is one of the most HILARIOUS women I've ever met in my life.
There's the sweet, lovable, giggly one who can make anyone's day better by just being in the room.
And all the others as well. But sometimes I have to think "Well, maybe someone looks at me and thinks I don't have problems. That I have no reason to feel this way about myself." Thinking about it that way helps. There are times when I suddenly gain spurts of confidence. I caught myself--when looking in the mirror the other day, I thought to myself "I don't look THAT bad." And mind you, this was not when I was in a cute outfit with perfectly coiffed hair. No, no. This was pre-shower, just-woke-up ponytail, only-beauty-ritual-performed-was-teeth-brushing. And I thought I looked okay. And I MEANT IT.
This is huge, my friends, HUGE.
I'm just going to start telling myself "Things will get better. Things will get better." I heard that if you repeat something 1600 times, you finally start to believe it. Anytime I feel hopeless and like shit, I'm going to tell myself "Things will get better."
Because they will. I only have to say it 1597 more times.
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