Over the years my ED lay dormant, a salient spore. I knew stress triggered me and I coped by setting unrelenting standards for myself. Enter the perfectionist. But which perfectionist? Was there more than one?
I employed three:
- The punitive critic
- The demanding critic
- The guilt inducing critic
Slippery and deceptive, I have just begun to honestly face them.
My resolution of my ED has been a lifelong journey, I’m nearly 60. The decision to write about it was driven by an incessant internal nagging. I resisted it for a long time, knowing that behind the recovered physical body of the anorexic, lay unresolved emotional misconceptions.
Then I began.
I smashed the experience out quite quickly 45,000 words of undecipherable me. My best friend gave me valuable critique. ‘It’s too confusing,’ she said. At this point, flashing neon doubts arose. I wondered what people would think. Where is the line between wellness and ongoing mental health issues?
I’m 58 and I’ve spent my life questioning. Lately, I’ve discovered that I’m still wondering how to embrace womanhood, feeling totally comfortable in my own skin. And I’m not alone. This post is a series of questions. It’s about my ongoing journey of me making peace with me. It’s asking why we continually want to change ourselves.
I began to write Schicksal five years before its publication. Now a year after publication another epiphany dawns …….
I remember NYE when I sat on the floor before a laundry basket; dubbed the too hard basket. The unit had been packed up after my father’s death and I purchased a house by the sea, realizing a dream.