The End Of An Era
The days tick by like the timer on a bomb,
I become enveloped in isolation.
No one will hold my hand through this,
These last steps, I must take alone.
Don’t look back,
No I mustn’t look back,
I have to die to live again.
I slowly descend from this womb of pain and manipulation,
With my first breath I will cry out against you.
I will then drink from the breast of Fortitude
And cut the umbilical cord,
Binding me to your depravity.
I am no longer yours.
No more blood,
No more tears.
I do not fear you anymore.
Out of the darkness
And into the light.
I am mine.
I am mine.
These last steps I take alone.
-Hannah L. 6/6/08
just thought that I'd throw this out there, and maybe talk to someone who has tried marijuana for this purpose
I remember a few yers ago when my grandfather told me that he thought that I had an eating disorder that nobody had diagnosed me with yet. I got pissed at this comment that he made, but I never told him. I thought he was attacking my veganism and it pisses me off when people say stupid shit about veganism.
but he was right. he was so right, and, like having a friend come out to you, looking back in the past a lot more things made more sense when I realized that I was, in fact, anorexic.
I think it all started around the time I enetered middle school. that was where I feel that my life took a turn for the worse. I had you typical shitty middle school experience, and I had a shitty homelife. I had no social life whatsoever at this point, so my life was basically shit, and the only thing I felt like I could control was food. my need for something to control in my life was just worsed by the fact that things just dissapeard from my room and the fact that I was abused by my stepfather in the seventh grade.
I think it started out very subcouncoiusly, but a huge chunk of my middle school memories were being miserable and being hungry come lunchtime.
It only got worse when I became politicized in high school. I hated the image of fat, dumb, and happy americans. and whenver I ate something outside of me being hungry, I retained this image and felt like I was one of these people. I would look at overwiehgt people and ask myself how they allowed themselves to become that way. I know I sure as hell didn't.
one summer when I went to visit my dad, I arrived home from visiting the cape, and everything had been taken out of my room except a matress, a sheet, and a pillow. that summer was some of the worst 2 months of my life. I felt like a fucking slave because I had to work in order to "earn" my stuff back.
my homelife at my mom's house just got worse as time went on, and I'll admit that I had some part in it. there was a time in 10th grade where going to school felt like going to hell and getting tortured for 6 hours straight. I couldn't stand it. I moved up to gainesville, and that turned out to be a mistake. my homelife in gainesville was pretty shitty, too-and again, I had some part in it. there were times where I wouldn't talk to my father for weeks at a time because we would get into an arguement whenever we spoke to each other.
after a semester at school in gainesville, I moved back to my mom's house, and finally got a job and started to meet some cool people. eventually, my homelife there went back to the way it always was, but at least now I had some friends that I could hang out with to escape it all.
after a while, I got a fixed-gear bike and rode with one of my best friends everywhere, all day, every day. this was when my anorexia was at it's worst. I was consuming relatively little food, and then expending all of that energy almost as soon it it was put into my body. my life at home just continued to get worse-eventually with me running away from home, and then getting kicked out a couple of times.
then, the realization happened. one of my friends on here made a post about how he realized he was anorexic and how he was diagnosed with it, and I had much of the same symptoms. It scared the shit out of me. I never told anybody-not even my closest friends-at the time.
when I told a friend of mine, she was shocked. "but you used to brag about how much you ate all of the time" I told her, yes, but there lots of times where I went hungry. I stumbled across a journal entry one time where I was really pissed at my parents, and I had hardly eaten anything the entire day.
I was convince that I wasn't anorexic, and as a result, I was able to convince others that I wasn't. once somebody convinces themselves something, there's practically no way that you can get them to think otherwise.
so, I gave up veganism temporarily in order to gain weight. I've gained about 7 or 8 pounds so far, and I look a lot healthier. but I still have times where I'm hungry and I don't want to eat. there have been times where I felt pissed at my family in gainesville and haven't eaten. sometimes I have to force myself to eat food, and afterwards, my stomach feels like shit.
food hasn't been "just food" to me for the longest time. it was always a means of control. my parents seem to have this, "why don't you just eat more?" attitude when it comes to my problem. I've told them that I wish it could be like that, but it's not. I can't "just eat more"
I've been a member of this group for quite sometime. I've been abused and I joined this group in an attempt not only to help my friends that have been abused cope with it, but also to get more insight into how to help my now ex-boyfriend cope with me. There's not much to my story in the sense that I'd rather not elaborate at the moment as to my own personal experience.
It's been a while since it happened.. I was about 8 or 9 years old and I just turned 22. However, I did grow up in an abusive household. Physical and drug abuse was apart of my family's daily life, but I thought that I had pretty much dealt with all of that and the wounds were just scars. Then I fell in love and the very thought of becoming physical with my boyfriend made me almost sick to my stomach. I'm a virgin and I made that choice because ultimately, I was very, very afraid of intimacy with a man. I thought that maybe by this time, since we loved each other, I could give myself finally to someone, but I have not been successful. He was so good to me in many ways and I never felt pressured. In fact, we had to break up and that was one of the main points. I couldn't free myself enough and I felt like he never really understood what I was going through. I felt helpless tin my attempts to change myself.
So where do I go now? I don't feel like I'm ready for that wonderful, long-lasting relationship that I've craved for so long. I still feel incredibly inadequate. I thought I'd healed myself. Is it always going to be this kind of process? Will I ever free myself and be able to live a normal life of intimacy?
Last night, I spent a good hour of my life sparring with some good friends -- Life had gotten irritating again, and I needed to focus. And the way I chose to find focus was to ask my martial artist friends to play-fight, to exercise our skills in a sort of fighter's knowledge-exchange. And in the end, after using my shins to block one too many kicks, I came out a sore Pete. But a happier, stronger Pete, as well.
Continuing with my tread of "what do you do when ____?" posts... What do you do when you feel directionless and need to be centered? Just, something to do that brings you focus. For me, it's martial arts -- especially exchanges with close friends, where we both come out of it smarter and more capable of defending ourselves. I guess it's a good representation of duality and context -- violent actions bringing about emotional and physical harmony.
If you have anything to add to this post (especially the hotline part), please comment, and I'll edit and change it as necessary.
( Collapse )
When I'm dragged from those pits of despair, I'm usually taken with this level of clarity that almost bothers me, because I get these weird tangential (not tangenital, Ava) thoughts that I never jot down due to their abstract nature.
Today, hopefully for the benefit of all, I'm going to try to push them into coherent phrases.
Smile. Just for a brief, brief moment, smile. Smile because right now, in this community, you are surrounded on all sides by pure, honest, loving individuals. People that you can sit there and hand your heart to when everything else in the world seems dead set on breaking it, knowing that they'll hold it in their hands and try their best to keep it from crumbling. To keep you from crumbling, regardless of who or what you are. Smile because within this ragtag group of individuals, there's a resolute strength that can only come from the unique positions we've all been put through.
Smile because here, among these new friends... no matter who you are, no matter what your personal identity is, no matter if you are an abuse survivor or the friend of one or both... you are loved. Indiscriminately, unconditionally, all-encompassingly loved and supported. It's this feeling that makes me come here and post and vent my vulnerabilities to everyone. Because I know that everyone here honestly and sincerely wants to help. It feels less like a group of total strangers knit together in a community, and more like a group of extended family that I just wasn't quite aware of yet. And for that, I am thankful. I am thankful to know all of you. I am thankful to be here to try to help all of you as you have helped me. And I want everyone here to always remember that they are loved, wholeheartedly and honestly.