Tag Archives: intuition

Same old friend, same old story…

10 Jul

Is it possible to get well again, for good? No relapses, no sick thoughts? Just being healthy? I don’t have the answers. Sometimes, I think, yes, of course and I’ll be healthy, sometimes I think, no, it’s just not possible. However, I just heard from a friend of mine and what she told me makes me sad…

I have know her for eight years now… we got to know each other at a treatment center for eating disorders. We were both very, very young. It seems like we knew NOTHING at all about everything that was going on. However, we shared a room. So she was the first person I really got to know at that place. It’s kind of awkward  to remember that time now, it all seems so unreal! At that point, we didn’t know that we still had such a long way to go!

For a time, we lost the contact… but we’ve been back in touch for about two years I think. I know what happened to her after she was at the treatment center and it wasn’t all happy go lucky… But slowly, over the years, she gained back control. Control over her life! She struggled with depression once, but the eating seemed to be no issue anymore.

Well, what she told me now: She struggles once again. There are these thought she should not have anymore. Sure, her life isn’t easy right now. There’s insecurity, there is anorexia… at least in her thoughts, she’s there! So my friend is looking for a place in therapy once again.

It always makes me sad to hear things like this. I mean, I am glad she tells me! And I am struggling myself, so actually I should not consider this to be a big deal. It is, though. To be honest, I don’t always tell her everything about my struggles with life. Food included. Probably she doesn’t know as much about my problems as I do about hers. But still. She was fine, she was happy. And things can change so fast. If I think about it… someone who once had an eating disorder can’t be simply okay again. At some time of your life, at least that little voice will come back. You might not listen to it anymore. It gets less noisy and it will stop. But you can never be rid of it for good.


Long way to go…


The dark side of love

10 Jun

I have a friend in New York. It’s a guy, I got to know him by chance, hanging around union square. He called himself a hipster. I was new in the city. Actually, I haven’t even been in the US for such a long time. So I was just walking around and enjoying this vibe, this very special energy in NY (oh my gosh, I really do miss that!).

My feet were tired, I sat down at Union Square, right across from Whole Foods (gees… I do miss that, too!)
He started talking to me, in the end we talked the whole night and it was the beginning of a good friendship.

Once we talked about love. He said that being in love with someone is like being addicted to that person.
I almost got angry and worked up on that! Being addicted was something so terrible for me. (He knew about my story) Being addicted means being addicted to hunger, being addicted to eating and purging, being addicted to cutting. And that was terrible! Yes, there was a time when I really needed those things. But at the same time I hated all that! Maybe not at the very beginning, but once you notice the severe and negativ impact (I guess I don’t have to talk about that right know) it has on you, you will begin to hate it. So I told him that what he said is not true and to stop saying that.

But I started to think about it. Maybe I also loved… let’s say… being hungry? Even cutting? It is hard to admit, but it might be true, after all. But I didn’t love it the way I love my boyfriend. I loved and hated it at the same time! The more I loved, the more I needed it, the more I hated it! It was crazy. It was a love-hate relationship. (Actually, some really bad relationships also might work that way, but that’s not the point I want to make.)

But what to make of that insight? Today I think… one little steep out of that vicious circle is to reduce your love and your hate for those harmful things at the same time. Little by little. Cause the pendulum swings back and forth. If you reduce the hate, you won’t hate yourself that much each time you relapse. You reduce the love, and you won’t feel the urge that often anymore…

It’s a process.

And it takes time.

And love. But not for the harmful things you used to do.


Love yourself instead.

Wounds heal. Scars stay.

5 Jun

Scars. On the inside and on the outside.

Wounds heal, scars stay. Forever.

There are scars all over my arms. Scars all over my lower legs.

Especially those on my arms can easily be seen by other people in summer. I remember my teen years. I was anxious to hide any hint of self injury. And I was so embarrassed when I failed. I thought of the most creative lie for any injury. Not just the neighbors’ cat. That’s lame. My father was building a wooden summerhouse (true part) and I feel and hurt myself on a wooden board with nails on it (lie…). There were more of those lies. But I didn’t keep it up for a very long time. There is a difference between wounds from self-injury and accidents. And once there are too many of those wounds… there’s just no other explanation.

I was always suprised that people would still ask what I’ve done. I am sure they wouldn’t have asked if they had know for sure that the scars were from self-injury. Well, after a short time, I stopped lying. Things were just too obvious, I couldn’t stand thinking of new accidents anymore and actually, I just didn’t care what people would think.

So I told them. “Yeah, this IS what it looks like! This IS self – injury. I DID cut myself. And people were like “Oh.” More often than not, that was the only thing they said on this topic. That was fine with me. Actually, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. I would have talked to them about it. It became easy for me, I was frank with anyone who wanted to talk about it, it wasn’t awkward anymore. But I think most people just can’t take it. They don’t want to hear anything about these things. It doesn’t have a place in their ideal world. That’s okay. It’s not my concern.

A few weeks ago, something strange happened. I did cut myself again, on the backside of my lower leg. That’s bad enough, but okay… you all know, there are relapses. Always. And I am pretty sure there are still gonna be relapses for quite a long time. But they become fewer! That’s the good part!
Anyway, I did cut myself again. And it is summer. There were some really hot days. I do love the summer and I really don’t want to wear long clothes when it’s that warm… I love to feel the sun on my skin. And I didn’t want to bow. So I put on a summer dress and covered the injury with a little make up. I figured that most people wouldn’t look at that spot anyway, everyone is so busy with themselves… For the bigger part, I was right. But there was this one moment. Two friends and I were going to a bus stop. The street was steeply rising and I was going in front of them.

A mistake. But I simply forgot.

One of my friends was like “Devi, I just see this as I am walking behind you… what’s that on your leg?”
The other friend asked “Was it a cat?” (she was SERIOUS, no ironie or sarcarsm… I guess she doesn’t know it is a lame excuse for cutting yourself)

And at that moment, I noticed… it is much more difficult to talk about it when you see the actual injury. When you can see crusted blood instead of scars. When it is fresh. I have never been in that situation before! It was awkward.  My voice was very cool and dismissive. I simply said “Yes, it is what it looks like.  No cat. It was me and my scissors.”

My friends reaction:

“Oh.” “WHAT?” (very shocked voice)

Up to this day, we never talked about it again.


3 Apr

Quoth the ED… Nevermore.


It’s a deception, a beautiful lie. Beautiful, but still, it’s a lie. A weighty one. Nevermore: Relapse. Nevermore: Self injury. Nevermore: Purging.

The recipe for failure. It shouldn’t be that difficult. It is this difficult. It is war. Resign, give up all hope, and you will go down. Running doesn’t help, you’re never fast enough. Never. Nevermore.

Could you win this war? If you dare to fight. If you fight on the right side. And if you stand up again and  again. Hitting rock button without breaking. It’s possible. You have to find out for yourself. For your Self.

Nevermore. Don’t trust the nevermore.

It’s possible.

Hope Vol. 2

6 Nov

Sometimes, the existence of hope is like the existence of God. You can’t see it. Often you can’t even feel it. It’s there. As long as you believe in it.

The religion of hope?

Hope – maybe one day things will be okay. –> Procrastinating. One day, nothing will be ok. One day, it will be too late. The only time you have is this moment.

Hope – but there’s nothing to do? –> If we can’t change the situation, maybe we have to change. It’s all about change…

Hope – but it’s been so long! –> That’s why it’s time to take some action NOW!

Hope – get up. Get rid of your self-pity. It’s one of the most consuming things ever. You could try a smile. You’re not the only one with a bunch of severe problems. But if you stay here, in this one room with your doors all locked – you lock out hope and every possibility for change.

Bless you!

28 Apr

Don’t laugh. This might actually sound like a pretty silly thing to do. But it works. Okay, so maybe you want to laugh at it, that’s fine, actually, that’s good! And then, do it in spite of yourself!

It’s one of those dark moments in life (even though it’s a wonderful spring day, the sun is out and it’s really nice. But none of that come through to me…). The black clouds in my mind are too real, my head hurts, I feel weak and exhausted and I’m just tired of all of this. Maybe one of those rays of light actually reach me, I don’t know what made me think of this. But I have a friend who sits down every now and then and counts his blessing. It’s kind of a weird thing to me. I am not a lucky person, not blessed – so why taking the effort at all? Pity Party!!!

Maybe exhaustion kept me from thinking straight or I just didn’t care anymore. I gave it a shot! I told myself  “Alright, you stop feeling so sorry for yourself now, girl! Kick yourself in the butt, get up from your knees when there’s no need to crawl around and count your stupid blessings!!!” At this particular moment, as I was walking around, I had to laugh out loud. In the middle of a public park, crowded with soccer moms and their kids. How silly! I was trying to count my blessing, to show gratitude, look at the things I was thankful for in my life, things and people that were good for me. At the same time, what did I do? I addressed myself in a cruel and disrespectful manner, reflecting all my self-hatred and negative out view on life! Oh my gosh, I just can’t let it be! But at this particular moment, I broke the cycle because I noticed what I was doing. And I laughed at it, then I let it go. This laugh was like giving myself a big hugh. Telling me that it’s ok. That I really did not care about the people staring at me because of my random fit of laughter. And that I could go ahead and count my blessings now.

(I got up to 19. One for each year of my life. Not bad for a beginner. And here’s one more: I am grateful for having this blog, having people out there, who read it and being able to share. And I am grateful that I had my little notebook with me this afternoon so I could write everything down.)

(Not another) Beautiful lie

19 Apr

Time runs you over, it is reckless, indifferent about you.

Friday night. A shadow of her former self, laying on the cold floor. Dark hands cover a face that has not smiled for a long time. A silent scream penetrates the house. It is an old story, told over and over again. The night engulfs her, moonlight doesn’t make things easier anymore. She knows that the sun will rise again. But what for? Mockery and shame? To cast light on the broken fragments that she leaves behind?

This is not part of a nightmare. It is reality. It is the reality of addiction, of depression, of anxiety and every eating disorder. THIS is the life we chose to live.

We look for help, for a hand, a branch, something we can grasp before drowning. And we are starving to hear this one, short sentence: “It will be ok. Everything will be ok.” Waiting for someone to say these redemptive words. It’s a beautiful lie…

I know that people who land on this blog are looking for advice, help, comfort. All they want to read is a post promising that it’s gonna be ok. There is a lot of them. It’s nice to read and comforting to believe them for a few hours. I never found those posts very convincing though.

The problem is: I can’t promise you this. Because I don’t know. How should I be able to tell? Maybe things will never be ok! What does “ok” mean, anyway? Sometimes you have to embrace insecurity and uncertainty first to move forward. Nobody can make you this promise. Unless you give it a chance, you will never know. Keep in mind:

One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.