becoming infinite

always learning. always growing. always lifting heavy things.

glances in the rearview.

3 Comments

i’m reading wintergirls today. yesterday i watched MTV’s true life: i have an eating disorder. the day before that (and that night, as i’ve been dealing with the worst insomnia since surgery) i watched the E! miniseries documentary what’s eating you?

basically i have spent the last 72 hours wandering through the wasteland of my past. glimpsing shadows of myself and wincing in the blue-grey light of my laptop screen in the dark. it has been years, yet the thoughts still lap at my heels.

there will always, i think, be a little pocket of myself who misses that version of life. who misses the simplicity of a world reduced to one thing and one thing only. it was horrible, yes – i pushed my family away for years, i lost friends, i had to drop out of college, i damaged my body, i entrenched thought patterns into my mind that i still struggle to re-route – but there’s something oddly comforting when you’re wrapped in that blanket of wooly haze. everything else is fuzzy and out of focus; it doesn’t matter. nothing matters because it’s all unimportant. you know the key to everything, the secret to the world, and you’re invincible. invincible, dammit.

it doesn’t matter that i have been out of that world for years. i can still remember the hum of caffeine in my veins, the endorphins that would pound through my blood as i stumbled back from the bathroom. telling myself i was completely in control, and actually truly believing it. feeling infallible. unstoppable. weightless.

it was a long time and a terrible time, with repercussions that will follow me my entire life. but goddamn do i long for it sometimes.

 

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Author: jenn

impossible to define; indefinitely impossible. maybe i'll add more here later.

3 thoughts on “glances in the rearview.

  1. Reblogged this on myendlessreasons and commented:
    Sums up the “recovering” life nicely…

  2. I’ve always likened it to a monster hiding in some mental-alleyway at night. It’s always there, always lurking, waiting for a chance to pounce, attack, and then kidnap. I think the best we can do is learn to protect ourselves from the monster, and you have done a marvelous job all these years, and despite those moments of not really caring if it pounces, attacks, and kidnaps… we can still be ready and protect ourselves from it. ♥

    • i like that analogy! very fitting. and yea, the best days are the ones you forget there’s anything to be guarded against – i see recovery as the stringing together of days like that. we always know there’s a threat, but stringing those days together like pearls can make quite a barrier. ❤

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