Who wants to think about the war when it’s over? Who wants to return to that experience if they can choose to live without horror?
I’ve always thought any duplication of a past irrational event is going to be imperfect. War is an unfathomable horror that cannot be fully contained in language or memory. Such is also the war that is experiencing a difficult eating disorder. Who’d want to relive that?
It’s really important thus that I write about this now. This morning I’ve been in a battle, yesterday too. My enemy is my mind and when the illness tries to drown the Pihla we all know and love, conditions start to turn into what I imagine war to be like – unprecedented amounts of senseless suffering.
This illness fascinates me but when I am in battle, I feel pure, ahoy-the-end-of-the-world-is-now style horror. I fear for my life, all clouds are black and all-consuming. My being (I don’t want to separate between body/mind, even if sometimes I feel it’s more a somatic panic manifesting in my consciousness as a feeling of pure terror) is in super-alert. It’s literally fearing for its life. I think the feeling is preparing for fight/flight. It’s a white light of pure panic and all possible alarm bells are ringing.
Last year, when I had a month of particular suicidal ideation, that feeling was a daily occurrence. I went to safe places, most often the public library (praise be, Finnish public libraries!), as I was literally afraid of falling to pieces, exploding, or getting swept away into the sea by some current of wind or wave. It was safe in the library because if anything happened to me, there are library assistants or cleaning ladies to sweep up any remnants of me from the floor. Hopefully to put my pieces back together of course, although I don’t think they are contractually obliged.
Did I mention this is a very irrational illness. I am a very sensible person but I had these thoughts. They are compulsive and as much as tried to reason myself out of them, at that point I could not.
But I’ve started learning ways to soothe myself. One thing is to present to one’s consciousness the thought ‘No matter how anxious I am, I will eat my next meal. My anxiety will not affect my eating.’ Another one is to repeat ‘I am safe, everything is fine, nothing bad will happen to me’ to myself until I gets it. I usually do, and calm down. The doom shifts.
I bet if I read a book on how to beat your ED, I could find this advice in that book. I have been unable to read such a book so far due to the rawness of my recovery process. All in good time.
For now, peace out, and until the next time.