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05 July 2008 @ 02:29 pm
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."   - Marianne Williamson 

Maybe I'll feel this when/if I recover? Am I willing to take the chance? 

Liberated from fear...would I just find another fear to cling to? When do you ever know if you are free of anything - pain, fear, anger, resentment, guilt?

I fear the liberation. Because it would mean liberation from MYSELF. In this case, I fear myself. Where has my confidence gone? I used to have goals (other than losing weight) and high aspirations. I have lost myself in this disease. It has sucked me up. Chewed my soul. Spit me out and covered me with dirt. I am still the body, although a different form. But where is my soul? Where is my liberation? 
Current Mood: listlesslistless
Current Music: Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap
26 June 2008 @ 10:34 am
This morning, I found a good sized box and proceeded to rampage the closet, purging away any clothes that don't fit, I have never worn, or that I know I will never wear again.  Innocent plan; I even had charity in mind.  Inevitably this turned into my own little fashion show.  I stripped down and stared down at piles of clothes scattered across the unmade bed.  One by one, I folded delicately the items I knew I did not want to touch my skin and placed them into the box abruptly marked "Goodwill."

One item was a teeny tiny black shirt with a sequined rose on it that could probably fit an 11 year old girl.  I was 25 last summer when I wore that shirt in a recital.  I put that shirt in the box three times, and took it out three times before deciding I wanted to keep it.  Not because I believe I want fit into it again, but because it holds some strange sentimental value.  I remember slipping into that shirt and gliding across stage to my designated seat to perform in a Brahms string quartet.  My sister, glowing in my peripheral vision, did not smile or clap at my presence on stage; I could barely trace a slight head bow and a turn to whisper a sigh into her friend's ear.  I sadly have no recollection of how the concert went, save perhaps from the recording.  The only memory that lingers, is that of my sister drinking in my jutting bones and scrawny arms as I poured the remainder of myself into the music.  

To me, this shirt represents a time when I reached that point of no return, and a huge part of me doesn't want to let that go. 
22 June 2008 @ 09:27 pm
Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in a revolving door. Most days, all I think about is how I am going to maintain the weight loss I have managed and possibly lose more. But some days I wish I could turn it off, and go back to eating normally to attain a healthy body again.  

Yet this relationship with my ED continues.  Although I realize it ruins spirits, destroys bodies, and consumes souls, I can't seem to push it away. A guess a lot of relationships are like that. We realize something/someone is bad for us, yet we continue to crawl along with it because it's all we know. Thinking back on everything we have sacrificed to get thus far, how could we possibly set it aside and "just move on." 
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative