Glad to still be alive

The previous post is still lurking in my mind. I am convinced: It is worth it to keep on living. During the past 20 years, I have experienced many things that I wouldn’t want to miss. I became healthy and so much has happened. I have friends, too. That was lacking back then.

A few days ago, I had an incredibly heart-warming experience. Last week, a good friend offered to read the German translation of my book and give me feedback, before it goes to press. She has only known me for ten years, so she “only” knows the healthy me. When I was young and eatingdisordered, I doubted everything including life itself. My self-esteem was nearly non-existant.

I want to share the following email, because it so beautifully summarizes the changes I made, and what changes and healing are possible — for anyone. Her words also show that others tend to see us in a much better light than we see ourselves. It is a good feeling to have close friends. That is what I write today — me, the woman who 25 years ago could only imagine what friendship is about.

Back then, I was ashamed of my behavior and my apparent weakness. Today I feel mostly compassion. It was a nightmare, the worst chapter of my life. At the same time, I admire my strength. I survived it despite everything. I did more than survive: I learned to live, and I learned to love life. But that’s it. I’ll let my friend say the rest. (My translation from German.)

“Amazement -  Irritation – Doubt – Speechlessness – Reflection – Sympathy – Understanding – Sadness – Depression – Helplessness – Pride – Gratitude – Hope – ….

Here they are, my first impressions. And I, who otherwise writes emails like a spouting waterfall, I am speechless.

I’m not too far yet with reading — because on some days, I just couldn’t get myself to read. I was too touched. Many times I recognized myself and needed to take a break, to look inside myself, to stand back a bit… and then your book tempted me again. And I had to read until deep into the night. And I suffered with you and with the other women who share this chapter of their life with you.

And I was amazed and astonished. I only know you as a vivacious, open, warm-hearted person, who makes friends quickly, and has many friends. The friends of yours that I know give a sense of being deeply connected to you, not at all superficial. For me, you have always been one of the most beautiful women I know, so natural and flawless.

I simply cannot believe, cannot fathom, cannot understand how you could have had such a negative image of yourself. At the same time, I know how I treat myself in front of the mirror!

We tend to be merciless towards ourselves, yet would never treat others in such a way. I comprehend that you didn’t see yourself, but only what was inside of you — and while reading I wanted to shake you and hug you and tell you how wonderful you are.

When I read, I wish that you would look into the mirror and see the Martha that I see. A beautiful, warm-hearted, cheerful, enviable, courageous and successful woman, who has both feet firmly on the ground, is living her dreams, believes in herself, meets challenges with a smile, and believes in the goodness of life. A friend with depth, courage to show her feelings, and an invincible will to live.

And then I am so glad to know you now, so relieved that you didn’t give up back then, that you were able to pull yourself out of the turmoil. As I said, I’m not that far with reading yet, but far enough to see a different Martha, one who certainly didn’t deserve all that suffering. One thing I know for sure. This book gives hope, and can be a support for someone who hasn’t yet succeeded in overcoming this insanity.

I am so glad that you are here, and that you didn’t starve yourself out of this world — or like you said — “puke [yourself] to death”. Even though you live in H– now and are further away than most of my friends, I feel very close to you at the moment.

I hope this note doesn’t sound too dramatic — but I just can’t find other words. I thank you for your trust, for letting me have such a deep glimpse into your soul. Be assured of my respect and high esteem.

I wish you a wonderful weekend. And if the sun winks at you, then only because I am so happy that you can see it!!!!”

Gee, I wish I could be that eloquent when I’m speechless!!

 

A delicate topic on the tightrope

Every so often, I see that someone looked up “suicide” and arrived at my blog. Each time I read that word, it gives me a jolt. Several times during my illness, I felt and wrote that I was living a slow suicide. Killing myself, but holding on by a thread of hope, just in case it might get better. Though I didn’t want to hope too openly, for fear of being let down and disappointed yet again.

To be in the position of considering suicide means that you have a lot of suffering, pain, disappointment and hopelessness in your life. It just doesn’t seem to make any sense to go on. Janis Joplin once sang: “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose.” I can’t tell you how many times that thought went through my head. How often did I think: Well, I have nothing (more) to lose.

That was actually what got me on the road to health. I figured: What the heck? I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain — as far as quality of life was concerned. The biggest risk I took was to believe in myself, or maybe just in life. I wasn’t quite ready to believe in myself back then.

If you are thinking about suicide and looking to see what people are writing about it, I take that as a positive sign. There is always hope to be found. Sometimes you just have to sharpen your focus and open your mind. Signs of optimism can be found everywhere, all we have to do is look and be willing to recognize them.

Life progresses in waves and there are definitely down times — even though I’m recovered, everything is not always peachy keen. Bouts of depression come along as well. Over the years, I have learned to deal with them, and trust that they will pass. For me, that is the price of admission to the world of joy and wonder. I can feel both extremes, and I am grateful for this expansive perception. For every day to be the same as the next, for my feelings to never change, to be totally regular, normal, always the same – that would be unbearable.

It’s not an easy up and down. Now that I’m in an up phase, things are better and I feel like I have a good overview. It’s not too long ago that I was thinking about suicide. (Just thinking, not contemplating doing it.) At this point, I don’t think it would be an option for me, but I was feeling so low that I linked in on that wavelength and could really understand and remember how it feels. Sometimes life is really hard, and sometimes those down times seem to be endless. But they do pass.

I’ll sign off with a quote from Immanuel Kant, a German philosopher, who lived from 1724-1804. I cut it out of the newspaper  a while ago and taped it onto my computer. “Three things help make our struggles in life bearable: hope, sleep and laughter.” I read that every day, and for me it is so true. Don’t give up!

And here’s the song…

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waiting for a train
And I’s feelin’ nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way in to New Orleans.

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana,
I was playin’ soft while Bobby sang the blues, yeah.
Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding Bobby’s hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don’t mean nothing honey if it ain’t free.
Feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

From the Kentucky coal mines to the California sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done,
Yeah, Bobby baby, he kept me from the cold.

One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away,
He’s lookin’ for that home and I hope he finds it.
But I’d trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
To be holdin’ Bobby’s body next to mine.

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that’s all that Bobby left me, yeah.
Feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
Feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
It’s good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.