I’ve thought a great deal about listening to the anorexic voice, hearing her arguments and disdain against what’s going into my mouth or the food choices I’m making. And I’ve thought about how frequently we are told to listen and then to fight- which is so right, we absolutely should not listen, but doesn’t fighting sound like a whole load of hard work? It sounds painful?
This morning it was particularly strong and I knew that right up until the food went into my mouth I would be deafened by it.
This was one of the first mornings on my own and it was for me to make and have my breakfast on my own.
Omelette… 2 eggs
Porridge… with normal milk…
Now in the past I have always had omelette… with egg whites only and always had porridge… made with water.
So this was me making two changes that would significantly increase the fat content, nutritional content, vitamin and mineral content, calcium content and if course the overall taste!
I heard her as I cracked one egg and then 2. But unlike previous occasions, where this voice has been so loud that succumbing feels easier than fighting, this time I really listened and I remained intune with it. I visualised me on a beach, a painting by Mia Cameron of figures on sandy plains coming to the forefront of my imagination. In my mind i started to walk away, I’m imagining myself as one of the figures in the painting. I walk strongly and boldly towards the shore line of omelette and milky porridge. Away from the voice. Simply walking away.
When you first step into the sea, the water gushes through your toes, it envelopes your feet and sends shivers up your whole body. It’s a sensation that cools and calms, there’s truly nothing else like it.
There I stood in my dingy little kitchen, imagining that shore line, remembering the humiliation of recent failures but walking away from the anorexia.
I ate the omelette and I ate the porridge.
The meal is done. My body’s healing process is well underway.
This morning I listened, I heard and I walked away.
I trusted my descison and didn’t try to change it or Alter the quantities.
I committed, I cracked the eggs and poured the milk. This wasn’t another plan or intention I was actually going to do it and it’s at this point that the anxiety and fears started to engulf me.
But then I imagined, and I visualised and I used the tools that I know work for me. I held the image of that beach strong and steady.
Before I knew it I had done it. The execution. The munching. The happy food time! Nourishment, health and goodness.
How lucky is my body?!?
So listen to that screaming voice, let her fight for you and deafen you. But then boldly, calmly and with utter peace walk away.
It’s not easy, and I’m never going to pretend that it is but surrendering to the peace of recovery sounds more comforting than fighting for your existence, doesn’t it?
Because we, you and I… we deserve this