The Things I Can’t Say
But need to say
I decided to practice this whole saying things out loud thing while I was on the drive home because I’m not allowing myself to quit. Yet. Those dirty words that I can’t ever seem to articulate were forced into the air. Abuse, neglect, rape, worthy, value… I don’t understand why they are so difficult for me to say. Like putting them out there gives them power…meaning…and reality. More so than just writing them. Saying the words “I have anorexia” made me nauseous instantly. I can probably count on one hand how many times I have actually verbally said those words. And right now it’s raging, but I chose to deny that until this morning. The scale might not show it but everything else does.
I miss it. I long for the mornings of pacing in my house to get a mile in before 8am, sneaking out to run in the middle of the night, stepping on the scale 5 times a day, watching the clock for 1pm so I could have my first calories, the incessant need to move and be productive, the physical pain and exhaustion after pushing my body past it’s limit day after day, the satisfaction of beating myself at my own game, the ability to numb everything else, the drive to get things done, the calorie counting, and the exhilaration of being dang good at something…
It all sounds so enticing and for that reason I know I am really struggling. I’m afraid of liquids, I absolutely cannot eat without distraction, my appetite is practically gone, I contemplate stopping my meds daily for fear of what they are doing to the number on the scale, calories are counted before I can give it a second thought, I am restricting intake and despise myself in the moments that I don’t, I hate my body from the moment I wake up until the moment I finally fall asleep, and the motivation for the gym is absolutely ed driven. I have not yet figured out how to accept this life, and it’s getting more and more difficult by the day. I hate that I am my own worst enemy.
I need to say the difficult words.
I was neglected. I was physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually abused. I am safe. I was raped. It wasn’t my fault. My babies died. I am worthy. I have trauma. I have value. I have an eating disorder. I matter.
