Tag Archives: relapse

Mono Inc. – Symphony of Pain

21 Aug

This song is  not exactly about eating disorders, but still, I associate it with that time.

Isn’t it true that you give to your ED whatever it wants? Drowning in her sea of sweet demand? Whatever you may need, I’ll give to you?
Dancing down on danger lane… that’s the way it always felt. It’s a dangerous dance. Whistling the symphony of pain? Yeah, I did. So many times…

And isn’t it a dark romance? My ED and I? Me and Mia? Me and Ana? Close this dark romance…

I know I’ve been lying in bed listening to this song over and over again… every line describes the way I felt. This song is not meant to be about eating disorders. For me it’s all about ED though.

Rising high and falling deep
reduce me to despair
drowning in your sea of sweet demand
feed me when I beg for more
bale is in the air
blink at me and I’m at your command

Whatever you may say
whatever you may do
whatever you may need
I’ll give it to you

There’s blood red rain
coming down on your bed tonight
blood red rain’s on your face
close this dark romance
as we dance down on danger lane
whistling the symphony of pain

Shadows on the bedroom wall
divert me from the truth
no way back
tar and feather me
discard the alarm device
sprinkle me with youth
close my eyes there’s no more need to see

Whatever you desire
whatever you may claim
whatever you may take
I’ll take the same

There’s blood red rain
coming down on your bed tonight
blood red rain’s on your face
close this dark romance
as we dance down on danger lane
whistling the symphony of pain


Ted Leo – Me and Mia

23 Jul

Classic. And one of the best songs about both anorexia and bulimia.
“Fighting food to find transcendence”
That is an amazing line… and so true. Sad, but true.

As I was walking through a life one morning
The sun was out, the air was warm
But oh, I was cold
And though I must have looked a half a person
To tell the tale in my own version
It was only then that I felt whole

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To get a little self-control
I know how hard you try
I see it in your eyes
Call your friends, because we’ve forgotten
What it’s like to eat what’s rotten
And what’s eating you alive
Might help you to survive

We went on, as we were on a mission
Latest in a Grand Tradition
Oh, what did we find?
It was Ego who was flying the banner
Me and Mia, Ann and Ana, oh
We’d been unkind

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then, get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To get a little self-control
I see it in your eyes
I see it in your spine
But call your friends, because we’ve forgotten
What it’s like to eat what’s rotten
And what’s eating you alive
Might help you to survive

Even the nights that could get better
And even the days aren’t all that bad
And after a week of fighting
As more and more it seems the right thing

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To gain a little self-control
Won’t anybody here just let you disappear?
Not doctors, nor your mom nor dad
But me and Mia, Ann and Ana
Know how hard you try
Don’t you see it in my eyes?

Sick to death of my dependence
Fighting food to find trancendence
Fighting to survive
More dead, but more alive
Cigarettes and speed to live
And sleeping pills to feel forgiven
All that you contrive
And all that you’re deprived

All the bourgeois social angels
Telling you you’ve got to change
Don’t have any idea
They’ll never see so clear
But don’t forget what it really means to hunger strike
When you don’t really need to
Some are dying for the cause, but that don’t make it yours
And even the nights, they could get better


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.

Wiliam Ernest Henley – Invictus

22 May

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
looms but the horror of the shade,
and yet the menace of the years
finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


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.


17 Dec

is it possible that december is the perfect time for relapsing?

Everyone is having a good time. People are happy. People are eating a lot and don’t even think about it.

Except for us. We go crazy. Being depressed and everything. Plus it’s dark and cold. It really doesn’t help.

I used to love the time around Christmas so much. But I just noticed, that during the last few years, I’ve always had one of my worst times of the year in december. Beautiful and terrible time.