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creating a purpose ***triggerish ED abuse? » Lindenblüte

Posted by ElaineM on November 6, 2006, at 22:55:26

In reply to Re: hospital fear/phobia? ****trigger » ElaineM, posted by Lindenblüte on November 6, 2006, at 21:33:04

Thanks Li :') I'll try and remember that tomorrow. I'm trying to prepare for the possibility that he'll want me to stay. I mean, obviously I'll do it. It's just so d@mn hard.

I've been trying to reframe the pointlessness of the ED thing. I always said that it came to exist to save me at a time in my life when nothing else was available to me. Treatment (and the learning to have a relationship with parent-like staff) taught me a whole new way of thinking, and sharing and words to express stuff. I learned not to be afraid of "weak" feelings, and to risk being vulnerable by caring for people, trust, and to speak outloud infront of others. But then, treatment ends up behind me (and the "best" of the disease is over) and I'm right back in my own lonely sh*tty life, with the same problems I started with, just more physical damage. And so much stigma. And so I changed my mind and decided that even though I was "recovered" the AN was still gonna kill me in the end. That life has been a waste and has only been made harder.

But this year I've been trying to think that the purpose of my existence was to make sure that my grandparents could leave the world with someone beside them telling them that they loved them, and helping them even when they were sick. I came into existence to make sure that he had someone with him as he died, and to help my grandmother survive it. And the ED was needed to teach me the humility to say words like "love" and "care for" and "miss you", and to hug, and to cry infront of others - all the stuff that I didn't learn at home. All the stuff that was forbidden or got you smacked around for, cause it showed you were weak. I needed to learn to be shameless that way so they could know what I felt while there was still time.

So the fact that I've injured myself more, or that tomorrow could not go well, or that I may never live like a normal adult, is irrelevant. Doesn't even matter. Cause I did what I was supposed to do. The point was never to better my own life.

I don't know, maybe that sounds hokey. But it sometimes helps a little. I try and focus on that when the despair gets out of control.

[sorry for the double post. I posted, had to repair the connection so pressed Stop, and figured it didn't get a chance to send, so I sent it again. Evidently it had. oops. *blushing*]




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