Showing posts with label day by day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label day by day. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

The Everlasting Plateau

Usually, recovery is a rollercoaster--full of ups and downs, curves and upside down spirals. We hear this. We know this. We understand this. It makes sense. There is, however, a lesser known part of recovery I call the plateau.

The plateau is what really tests your patience. It's a time during recovery when everything is moving along in the same way--not getting worse but not getting better--for a very long time. It makes recovery almost feel...stale.

It gets that impatience raging.

It makes you wonder if there is a better place in sight or if you've reached your peak.

Well, let me tell you right now--you haven't. The plateau is good in a lot of ways, because you're not constantly worried about setbacks. You're not preoccupied with slipping up. You're not solely focused on keeping your life on track day by day by day. You've made it somewhere. You've made definite progress. You're doing okay.

Yet...

Each day now seems the same. You're okay, but you're not great. You don't feel free. And the worst part of it is nothing's changing. No matter how much you push and try, you feel the same day after day. And you wonder, what gives? Is THIS what I've been working for?

NO.

It'll come. It's coming. You're getting there. You just can't see it with the naked eye. But if you compare day 55 to day 88 you'll see a definite difference. Know what I mean? It's imperceptible on a daily basis, but it's happening.

The plateau is not fun. But it's stable. And that's a blessing. Trust me. It's anything amazing, but let me tell you, it's a far cry from being immersed in an eating disorder every moment of every day. And at the end of that long stretch of plateau...when you get there...is a slide. And all you're gonna have to do is get on and zoom right into freedom. No more mountains to climb. No more holes to jump over. Just a slide. And sure, some hills may spring up here and there after you've slid into freedom... but when you're living sweet freeeeedom a little hill here and there is totally do-able. ;)

Wait it out. The plateau gives way. You're not done yet! There's more to come!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Anorexia.

Don’t forget about me, she says

As She twines her hands inside my hair


And yanks me close so I can hear

Her evil whisper in my ear.




Just when I’m doing great

And I can be myself again,


She jumps up on my back;

I can’t fight off the attack.




Don’t do this on your own, She says

Referring to my life.


She says, You need me, yes

And when She does this, I regress.



Just when I’m feeling better,

She throws herself right in my face


And I’m drowning, but just She

Can save me from the sea.



Don’t let go of me, She pleads

When I feel I’m getting well


And I cry and She feels better then

Until I’m doing fine again.



Just when I’m being positive

And I’m surrounded by good thoughts,


She breaks inside and screams

Until I let Her in my dreams.



Don’t forget about me, She says

As She pulls me closer still.


But at least for now I push Her away,

Tell Her I’m great, tell Her I’m great,


At least She’s gone just for today

And with Her went self-hate.


(c) Arielle Lee Becker 2004

***

I wrote this 4 years ago. It describes the kind of conversation I feel a person can have with an eating disorder--or at least part of an eating disordered mind. This poem speaks to me of the kind of desperation I used to feel when I was trying to get out...or at least wanted to recover, but Anorexia kept dragging me back, calling me back, or was causing me to slip up in my attempts to be rid of Her. I personified Anorexia because it's interesting and also--I think--easier to imagine being clutched at by a person rather than a concept or a disease. In the same fashion, I think it is easier to imagine breaking away from a person rather than an intangible element of your own brain. This poem also shows the day by day kind of mindset I had to go through to eventually get to where I am now. You can't just say "good bye" to something that has essentially ruled you for a long time, and run away free and clear. It doesn't work that way, as nice as that would be. You have to take it step by step, day by day. If you can be rid of it (or as my poem says, Her) for one day, you are that much closer to your goal. And though She may be back again tomorrow, you can try again to break away. Before you know it, you'll be pretty damn good at living your own life, fighting back. And later still, you will realize you are free at last.

Much love,

Arielle