" I want to feel good, intensely good - the way i feel intensely bad now. I need there to be a positive intense." My dietician sat at the opposite side of the table this morning, and threw this sentence in our conversation. She said it had been written on the bottom of the document where she tracked my progress all along; something I mentioned a long long time ago. I haven't seen here for a year, she is surprised. Proud. She uses the word "shine" and immediately apologizes for the cliché.
It summarizes everything. It was the condition on which I started this story. It was not going to be all (eating disorder) or nothing (healing). There had to be a new all. See, for me, the disorder was never empty. It was all encompassing, it filled every part of my day, the little corners of my mind. And it moved me - at least I was always on my way. To what exactly? I never knew. But I was on my way.
And my mother told me that normal was good enough - why did I make it so complicated? I did not have to look that far. My father told me he used to be this idealistic once, this strongheaded. And that I, just like him, would grow out of it. They called me back to life - dull neutral life. Where you could sit in, just like that, without fighting. It never attracted me, it was never enough.
I knew that would not ever bring me back - never. It was all or all. Never all or nothing. And I don't really know how I ended up here - I could not trace back the steps if I tried. A lot has happened, most of it without a plan, always suspicious, with one foot still on the scale. It was alone and crying and trying to find my way back without finding it, shutting down. Other countries, broken bonds, wine. Alone and crying and alone and crying and nights always awake. Running away and missing breath. Knowing better but still being surprised.
Little hints, that was it.
Allowing. Challenging life. Begging life: "Show me that you are worth it, please, please, please."
I have no idea how I got here, but this morning she read that sentence and I knew: I feel intensely good. For a while now. Just like that. I crossed the empty, still always fighting, still idealistic, maybe even still looking too far. I fill my days, the little corners of my mind: I am on my way. To more, to something that feels like home, to something that keeps running without control. To a positive intense - because people forgot it exists, that it's what we are made for.