Yesterday (Tuesday)… was the worst.
Like, one of those days that, as it is happening, you file into your top ten collection of worst days…ever.
I got on the wrong transit route not once, but twice. After having a driver miss my stop, then running four blocks, then having to take a taxi in a panic so I wouldn’t be late for an audition. Then riding the transit for two and a half hours, somehow forgetting my brain and getting on the wrong line, finding myself stranded in bum**** nowhere (that feeling of being lost and alone has got to be one of the worst). Then arriving 40 minutes late to a $160 appointment. Just to get out and discover the sauce I had picked up with my dinner had exploded all over my journal and King Lear play. …which are now garbage.
It was one of those days where, literally, every single tiny thing that could have come up as an annoyance…did.
By 5:00 nothing even phased me anymore. From then on every delay I found myself in, every line up that smacked me in the face, every wrong turn and every wrong corner I found myself in…. I just wasn’t even surprised.
Looking back, I see how first world this all was. Now that I’m writing about it I’m finding myself embarrassed at how upset I was. Even a mere eight hours ago.
But, the real darkness came from the fact that I was already feeling really low that morning. Actually, I’d been feeling really low the previous three days. I’ve been struggling lately with an underlying cloud of sadness. Not quite depression. I’ve been there before. But definitely a deep sadness underneath every thing I do. That appointment I was going to was to see my therapist, who had just slipped me into a cancellation spot. I really wanted to see her. To talk to her about this sadness. I had been feeling lonely and unsafe and really wanted her comfort. And then this happened. And I didn’t even get it.
It just felt like a bucket of nails being poured onto an already bruised and oh-so-tired slate.
“How much more do you want from me!?”
So when that first wrong turn occurred, those all too familiar voices reared in their ugly heads. Along with the all too familiar panic attack and ball-in-throat choking feeling of holding back the onslaught of tears.
“You’re so stupid.”
“You always do this.”
“You always make these stupid mistakes.”
In these moments…to which I’ve now had quite a few…it feels like the world is crashing down on me. Like everything is punishing me all at the same time. Everything is terrifying. Everything feels absolutely out of control and absolutely helpless. Life feels like way too much. Life feels completely stupid and I just…don’t want to be in it.
The next morning was hard. I was depressed. And then I did my usual “must make myself anxious” as a way to cover up the sadness so I didn’t have to feel it anymore. It’s a complete avoidance tactic, I have now learned.
I’m not sure what it was. But something shifted.
Through the day I started to get this massive, massive determination.
I began to feel so bloody sick of living this way. Of feeling these intense reactions and unstable emotions and not being able to cope with every day stressors.
I don’t know how much of it is related to my eating disorder. I know I use eating and exercise to cope with very deeply engrained traumas, to keep myself “comfortable” and avoid these heightened emotions that I experience. But something in me also knew that the way I live – with my coping and avoidance and rules and self induced anxiety – is what has to be changed in order to not react to days like yesterday as I did. I knew that the sadness I’ve been feeling – that I so often feel – has to do with the way I have been living and continue to live in my inner, personal world that nobody else sees.
And I’m so, so over feeling that. I don’t want to feel all this sadness anymore. All this anxiety. All these rules and struggles and constant feeling of life being too much.
I’m not naive enough to think that if I just start eating more etc. that all of that will go away. But I do feel that making behavioral changes and getting more support to do so is what will put me on the road to these bigger changes I seek. Honestly, knowing this and remembering how I felt yesterday… I don’t even feel scared.
I mean heck I’d rather feel the discomfort from making changes than having this continue to be my life.Letting Rock Bottom Be The Catalyst for Change #rockbottom #change #recovery #eatingdisorder Click To Tweet
Today I started feeling more determined than, possibly ever. I did things today I’ve never done. And I feel a really strong determination to have this only be a new beginning. I don’t know if this is just short lived. I hope not. But I do think sometimes these really, really dark moments can often be the catalyst for some much needed light to come in. When you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom and you just can’t sink any lower, sometimes a spark gets lit under your butt and gives you the strength… or maybe desperation… to finally say “screw it all” and let go of some things you’ve been holding onto for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it ends up being the wake up call you’ve been waiting for.
This is a bit of a journal entry post. Thanks for being a safe place for me to think out loud.
Have you experienced a sense of “rock bottom” that has started you on a road to change?