Confessions Part 2
Need to catch up? Part One Here :)
As I often do, on Thursday evenings.
In Dr. Jill’s office.
Talking about the latest manic episode.
Where I stayed up until 4am.
On the phone with a friend.
About what a mess I was.
I just wanted this to be over.
And this friend.
As he often did.
When was the last time I slept?
48 hours ago?
And more importantly.
The last time I ate.
And I told him, I’d forgotten to eat dinner.
Which wasn’t untrue.
I had then also forgotten to eat.
And breakfast probably.
So he urged me.
And rethink things in the morning.
By the light of morning.
Were much calmer.
And now, a few days later.
By the light of Dr. Jill’s office.
I was trying to figure out.
If maybe I was really bi-polar.
And IF, medication was the answer.
And she could tell.
As my body shifted.
That I am uncomfortable with the thought of medication.
Not just for mental health.
But I said, aloud.
Then and now.
That if I need it.
I will take it.
There was something else.
And Dr. Jill started working backwards.
“If you are sleeping okay.”
“If you’re drinking enough water.”
“If you’re exercising.”
The room stopped.
And I shifted again.
And without even thinking about it.
I made a horrified look on my face.
And she asked, as she often does,
“What’s that face? What just happened.”
“I don’t want to say.”
“I…I…I don’t want to say.”
“Because. I don’t want to be that broken.
Divulge my last secret.”
And the air, sucked from the room.
As I looked at her.
And then the ceiling.
And then breathed deeply.
And let tears fall.
“I’m not eating, well.”
And the room and Dr. Jill, in my mind, stood stale.
Hardened by my confession.
And I fought inwardly about what I really meant by Not Eating Well.
“Well, okay then, “ Dr. Jill responded, “That’s good news.”
Good news, my little self thought trembling,
That I’m down here.
Afraid to put calories and good food inside my body.
Afraid the image I see in the mirror is real.
The size of Dallas.
Afraid that while a size 4/6 fits.
It’s not real.
That someone has whited out the 2 of the 24 and 26.
Afraid that people really see a hefalump.
And even more afraid that I’m so crazy.
That I can’t see it
“Tell me about not eating.”
I swallowed hard.
The not eating was caught in the back of my throat.
And I was having trouble breathing.
Tried to say.
Keep it down here.
Keep it down here.
And Façade self.
Tried desperately to keep the cellar door closed.
It was higher self.
Who quietly announced.
I looked at Dr. Jill.
At the side.
And then back again.
The thing that I had been trying so desperately so swallow.
And that had taken all the air from the room.
And Dr. Jill.
Shifted herself in her own chair.
As my anchor.
Began to fill the room.
And for the first time in months.
April 6th, 2013.
Was my finale on Extreme.
And the weeks that followed.
Were like a hundred health and wellness shows being filmed in my real life.
Had ideas about what would be best for my real life.
How much I should exercise.
How much I should eat.
All of it.
None of it.
And in the midst of trying to do what everyone else thought was right.
I became Extremely overwhelmed.
To do nothing.
And just keep moving forward.
Because if I didn’t take in calories.
I wouldn’t gain weight.
Life had persisted this way for weeks.
Until Joli and Ken.
My home trainers.
Sat me down in my real life gym.
And told me.
I was off the floor.
Until I started eating.
And now that this post is five pages long.
We’ll save the rest of this confession.
The pieces caught in the back of my throat.
The ones that make me feel like I failed.
And I’m huge.
And eating a piece of raisin will make me gain 1000 pounds.
How they came to rule my life for a few
And more so.
How a few key moments and people in my life, brought me back.
To a semblance of “getting healthy.”