Fear of Recovery

June 8, 2008 at 10:00 am 4 comments

Why was I afraid/not willing to recover for such a long time? Okay, the anorexic didn’t want to get fat. Neither did the bulimic. But that wasn’t really what was at stake. There were some fears that people wouldn’t care about me anymore if I grew to be strong and healthy, but that wasn’t the main factor which prolonged the disease.

No, the big issue was that I was terrified of believing in myself and life, because I didn’t want to risk having the rug pulled out from under my feet yet again. I didn’t want to risk betrayal, or the feeling that I’d been fooled to believe in life — only to find out it was all a hoax.

My hope and promise had withered away, been eroded by the constant pattering of drops of fears rather than tears, beating away at my shell, reaching my inner being at the very core to wreck utter havoc. Those injuries were so deep that they to this day continue to rise to the surface, unveiling themselves one by one, requiring reconciliation and healing.

I’m avoiding specifics, as each of us has her cross to bear, her unique history and factors which brought her to where she is now, with whatever challenges and problems she has. It takes courage to face these difficulties, and to dare to recover and allow that vulnerability to resurface. True, it entails the risk of those hurts being repeated, but it also holds the key to the fulfilling destiny to which each of us is entitled. In the process of recovery, sometimes we just need to sit tight and wait for crazy feelings to pass. Sometimes we need to cry. Other times we need someone to hold our hand and repeat like a mantra: “It’s going to be okay. You are okay. I know you can do it.” Or maybe a hand isn’t enough, maybe we need some hugs as well.

For those of you in the process, I send comforting hugs and hands, and wish you the willingness to ask for these from those near you. Many people want to support you and encourage your recovery, but they don’t know how. Their well-meant advice falls on deaf ears, or we find a dozen reasons why it doesn’t pertain to us. But a non-verbal demonstration of support and affection can go a long way. I pray that you allow yourself these basic necessities, which we tend to consider luxuries.

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Entry filed under: About Recovery, Coping. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Gifts of Recovery Putting off life until you have the right figure

4 Comments Add your own

  • 1. vive42  |  June 8, 2008 at 4:30 pm

    🙂 so glad to read this. exactly how i feel, afraid to let myself hope and just knowing if i start climing the fall back to earth will be so painful. better to hide underground.

    there’s a story in that. maybe i’ll write it this afternoon, after my lunch.

    thanks. again.

    Reply
  • 2. diaryofarecoveredbulimic  |  June 8, 2008 at 6:42 pm

    You’re so welcome. We go through so much and there is a reason that we got sick to begin with. It is quite a trek back. I look forward to your story! 🙂

    Reply
  • 3. Lola Snow  |  September 14, 2008 at 6:48 pm

    What a beautiful and insightful post!
    I love your blog, it’s filling me with hope.
    Lola x

    Reply
  • 4. diaryofarecoveredbulimic  |  September 14, 2008 at 7:23 pm

    Lola: Thanks so much! I’m really happy to hear that! Wish you all the best!

    Reply

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