I'm doing amazing. My eating disorder is mostly in full remission. I never thought I'd get here. Just last week when this plan was being set into motion, my therapist said that with everything going on she would have expected me to relapse a long time ago. I'm hanging on. Actually, most days, I don't even second guess food or eating.
I'm crashing hard. I had to set my navigation to get to work so I could talk to my boss about taking a leave of absence. I've driven to this place every week for the past two (almost three) years and I couldn't remember where to go.
In the past 48 hours I've slept a total of one hour and 20 minutes. I have so much to get done and yet I can't seem to finalize anything.
"Boys will be boys."
"What was she wearing?"
"He's such a good athlete."
"How much did they drink?"
"He has a wife and kids."
"It's just how things were."
"That was so long ago."
"Why bring it up now?"
"Making a big deal out of nothing."
"How could you not remember?"
"It was the 60's, 70's, 80's..."
"No one could be a politician."
"They gave him a pass."
"He has such a bright future."
"He was such a nice man."
"All the kids loved him."
"How come she's the only person bringing charges?"
The list goes on and on and on... sex abuse scandal after sex abuse scandal, allegation after allegation. Still, we belittle the victims claiming all they want is money or to ruin someone's life. What about her life? His life? Mine?
Last time I went to treatment I told myself it was the last time. Just like I do every time, but this time I meant it. You know what? I have to give myself credit because as far as the eating disorder goes, I think I did it. That was the last time.
My therapist keeps telling me to think of this as something different. I'm not going back for eating disorder support. I going back to fix the problem.
Since March I have been going to therapy at least twice a week and doing EMDR to work on trauma. The more processing I do about my trauma the more I remember and the more I realize how much I don't have answers. They keep telling me I have those answers. The body keeps the score. "You know everything you want to know, but your brain is protecting you until you're ready." Each week I get a little more of the picture. It's like a 10,000 piece puzzle all kept in fragments in different parts of my brain. What does that even mean? I just want to stop thinking that the answer lies in death.
Little Bella cries at night because she's scared. Teenaged Bella wants to self-harm and take pills to make it all disappear. Adult Bella gets angry because if these high profile cases are thrown out in court, what the fuck does that mean for me? Adult Bella is angry that she can't fix herself. Adult Bella is sad.
Why didn't I report?
I didn't report because the first time I was told it was just a game. The second time it was a relative. The third time he was older and he liked the way my boobs looked. Nine year old me thought it was awesome that a 17 year old was into me. The fourth time I was in love and I believed him when he told me I was a slut.
People judge me on the outside without knowing what's really happening on the inside. My scars tell a story you know nothing about. Still, all people care about is how ugly those scars are... no one cares about the ugly, disgusting, horrifying story behind them.
I'm not running away from my problems by going into treatment. I'm running full force into them. I know many people won't understand this and I don't expect you to. It's difficult to understand something that most would consider unfathomable. I pray you never have to be the one on this side of the keyboard. I pray you never have to be the one finding it difficult to understand when your loved one tells you this happened. I pray that if you are a survivor, you see yourself as just that and nothing less. I pray a lot lately, though sometimes it doesn't sound so much like prayer.
I know many people will judge. I also know that I've worked with my team for almost eight years and I trust them more than I trust myself.
I'm not so angry anymore, I'm just hurt. I'm lonely. Confused.
Please don't give up on me.
