Not that I ever have anything but space. I live by myself, and am not exactly a partyer. I have plenty of friends, but no Attached at the Hip Best Buddy types. I honestly am happy with solitude. I am fine with going to movies by myself, making solo shopping trips, zoo visits, hikes, etc. It's not that I'm antisocial, I enjoy people and make friends easily . . . I don't really know how to explain it. Obviously the ED has worked as an isolating factor for many years now, maybe the solitude has just become such an inborn habit that it lingers now, without needing the food fears as a driving force. But I don't have social anxiety, it's not like I feel incapable of going out, just don't feel the urge to most of the time...now I'm rambling and feel like I've said everything twice, so I'll stop. In a nutshell, I know that I will be sad when my college friends and I part directions, and I don't want to regret missed opportunities to bond with them, but right now I feel a little disconnected from the group revelry.
My mom wanted me to go through my share of the family photos before the visit, so we can have them out while my extended family is visiting, so I've spent the last couple of days going through boxes and boxes of pictures. It really became an almost obsessional thing, I tore everything out of every closet, opened every box I own, making sure I hadn't missed a single cache of photos. I really felt like I was looking for something, but I couldn't define what it is. It was like I was driven to find some kind of answer to an unarticulated question, something that I could figure out from evidence in the photo-record of my past. Kind of silly when I try explain it, I guess.
Going through old photos has given me a lot of mixed feelings. You know what? I had a great childhood. Tons of shots of me beaming, doing fun things with my parents, friends, and brothers. Cammy hugging Littlebro, Cammy cuddling Grandpa, Cammy at any of the dozens of zoos my parents trucked to in order to indulge my passion for critters. Cammy reading a book in the top of her favorite tree, Cammy eating ice cream with Mom on the 4th of July, Cammy brandishing a frog or lizard scrounged from a neighbor's garden.
Then fast forward to teenage years. It's not just my body that melts away. You can see the changes in my eyes and the set of my mouth. The Wall. An Iron Curtain. The cloudier my expression, the smaller my body, and the trend through the years is like a pathetic flipbook. It's interesting, because even at very low weights, I had no idea how terrible I looked. I guess this is common. Seeing the photos now is pretty disturbing, because I literally had no clue that I looked that deathly. I have hundreds of photos on Facebook, Flickr, etc, almost all from college, where I've stayed underweight but have rarely dipped very far into the danger zone that I somehow subsisted in for much of high school. I guess I am so used to seeing that "version" of myself that seeing images from the past is a bit of a shocker. How did I ever think that was ok? I poured all of my energy and soul into looking that terrible? If I was that incapable of seeing the truth about my situation, will I ever be able to trust self-assessments?
Most of all, I just feel this strange emotion towards the girl in those pictures, one that I can't really articulate at the moment. A mixture of frustration and empathy? I understand she's in pain but am still appalled at the waste of life and energy.
And I don't know where the beaming, bouncing kid took a wrong turn and got sucked into that dark alley of anorexia. Maybe that's what I've been searching for. Trying to find some transitional fossil of my own ontogeny, some key clue that will tell me what the hell excuse I can claim for all of this.
There seems to be a direct yet ironic correlation between the length of my posts and the difficulty I have in putting my feelings into words. Maybe going out for a drink wouldn't be a bad idea after all.
6 comments:
I doubt you're the only one that feels the way you do about graduation. In high school, I did not attend all the festivities. In college, I didn't walk, so it didn't matter. In general, I think it's just a lot to take in. You've had four years of lots of hard work, learning about yourself, etc. I wouldn't beat yourself up too much about not wanting to be social, just as long as it is for the right reasons.
However, sometimes, I think we try to admit to ourselves we truly enjoy being alone when it is just a guise from the ED.
As for photos, I've done similar stuff, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. It's likely, we'll never really know. One therapist used to ask me what I'd want to tell the little girl in the photos. What would you say to the young Cammy?
Graduation, any ending transitional time, is difficult. The desire to be less than social is understandable. The last night staff is at the summer camp where I work, people like to all sleep together, outside, inside, etc. Me? I like to spend that night in my platform tent, the same way I have every other night of the summer.
Reading your posts I often think: it´s me! I know it so well! However I don´t think this after-something-big strange mood is pretty common and not only ED related. But your freinds would be happy to have you there.
I also have this feeling of owing some explanation to thirteen years old Ola, so easy-going and curious for what will come. Actually I owe her much more than just explanation and I hope once I will be able to give her back some of the life she was so looking forward to.
Oh I´m sorry I would like to write that I think it IS common among healthy people as well.
I agree with Tiptoe--I didn't really want to celebrate at the end of college. College was a struggle for me because of my ED and so I didn't have oodles of amazing friends--just a few close ones. I knew I was going to grad school next, so this wasn't the crowning moment of my life and academic achievement. I felt like yawning over the whole thing. Still, my parents made me go out for dinner with my fiancee's family and my family, they presented me with gifts, and my grandparents flew out from CO. Afterwards, I went to a friend's party for about an hour, had a glass of water, and went home to cry. It's a hard time of transition. I didn't want to leave my roommate or my fiancee, and I didn't want to go through the stress of packing up 4 years of my life and driving 3 days to my parents' house to a summer job I didn't want to do. Just be gentle with yourself and do what you know you won't regret later. I don't regret giving myself time to feel all the emotions I was feeling. Do this however you need to, you know?
By the way, I don't have your email address (mine is bearingeatingbeing@gmail.com if you want to ever email!) but I did just join Twitter. I don't really understand how to use it yet but I'll watch some tutorial video or something. my "handle" or whatever is muchfruit.
Post a Comment