UPDATE FROM "PS" - May 7, 2011:
"was doing a search for something else when i came on my own story. ha! i didn't know it had been put up. i am without a team in the truest sense again. i have medication, a physician whom i avoid at all cost, and my will. i should be blowing out birthday candles tomorrow and if that happens i know what my wish will be. i'm exhausted. i finally told my Mom that i don't want to live like this. i didn't mean it to frighten her, i'm just tired of BEING frightened all the time by all the hateful garbage that goes through my head. it is the voice of anorexia, nothing more or less. she took it quite well, almost as if she's ready for me to go as well. you see, i'm not small enough to vanish completely but not big enough to enjoy living. i know you said to fight but i'm so very tired.
i'm glad there are people stronger than me to keep doing the work you do. there is so much i can't see about myself and my latest life lesson has been a stronger realization of the disease taking actual worth, not just pounds and joy. i don't even know when i stopped seeing me.
i will write again if things improve. i don't want to take space when things are not good.
be well sweet Medusa.
keep telling the truth.
know you are loved.
ps"
Hang in there and try to stay strong, PS. Sending love your way...
~ Medusa
“Dear 'Medusa',
I’ve happened over your blog a few times in the last three years or so. I pop on occasionally to see what's happening, but mostly I avoid. It’s a bit close. Today I read that Marie Caro died of suicide and it really bothered me. I am not a 'follower' of 'thinspiration' anything, so I honestly had to find a photo to remind me who Isabelle was. Let me just say, I looked at her pics and had a very weird epiphany. I’ll get to it but if you'll indulge me, I shall share some of my story.
I have battled anorexia, variants of bulimic behavior and overeating since I was young. I was technically diagnosed as having anorexia nervosa when I was 14. I’ve played the scales up and down, most recently down again into an anorexic relapse which I’m ever so slowly coming out of... I’ve never been a vomiter as I simply could not do it without using ipecac, which fortunately I was too embarrassed to buy at pharmacy when the gentleman who owned the store questioned my purchase. I later discovered that it could be purchased in baby gifts, usually including thermometers and the like. At that point I knew the dangers and am just quite averse to throwing up anyway, but was glad I wasn't engaging in this behaviour as ipecac still seems accessible.
I’ve not been in and out of treatment centres much simply because I don't have that kind of money and I’m quite private. I don't see my physician unless it's truly an emergency because I don't need to know what's happening for me via her eyes, her nurse, her scales. It’s harder for me to go it with their sideways knowledge than it is to go it alone. I find it difficult for anyone to know my thoughts as they're damning and probably completely irrelevant to truth. I have had quite a lot of outpatient therapy for other trauma related issues, but mostly not for the eating disorder.
This last year I took a turn away from this norm and went to visit Peggy Claude-Pierre in Europe on invitation from her. That ended up being a very hurtful and telling experience. Suffice to say that she isn't quite the angel the media portrayed. Everyone is a number. Everyone to her is a means to some end and if you don't serve some purpose then you're written off but occasionally patted on the head via email. I can't tell you how many questions I’ve asked through her blog that go unanswered BUT if I write that I love her, she will post that as a comment. I’m keen to what's happening at this point and so I’m finished. The thing is, when this all happened, I was incredibly vulnerable because I had allowed myself to be so. The effect was that I was incredibly hurt when it was brought to my attention that I had been lied to about many things, including my value. At the time, I thought, if this angel cannot love me, then really I must have been deserving of this all along.
I think that's bullshit. I’m not willing to hang my hat on anyone's belief of me. I’m willing to entertain people's notions but when it tears me apart I have to stop and reconsider. Much of my problem is giving too much of myself away. I do it in big ways and small ones. My work is exclusively in the helping field. I have long-time friends and some who have been in my life for around a year. I’m quite stable financially, have no debt and work hard to never be a burden. My family and I are friends. Through good and bad the love prevails. Yet still, the anorexia is this looming presence.
It’s funny the things one says to self in order to make it better somehow. I have told myself for YEARS whilst having sores on my hip bones that because I have breasts still that I am not too thin. Most recently, I know I’ve lost weight again because of my hips, because I’m off the scales. My greatest fear is not my own death. My greatest fear is that my mother will bury me. I would never want this for her.
So two things struck me as I read about Marie. One is that I must keep fighting. I am despite it being a daily, sometimes hourly battle. I’m not all alone on this tour, but I still play things very close to the vest, particularly after my encounter with an 'expert' last year. I tend toward being incredibly private anyway, a family issue of sorts, and anorexia just isn't something one talks about in polite company. The second thing I considered is that I haven't got any control over what happens to my mother if something happens to me. That circles back onto the first thing and on...
I’m not sure what it means to me that Isabelle had breasts and was obviously very sick, I have breasts and anorexia, except to say something clicked for me. Something clicked. I realise some days more than others what an illusion this beast is. And what a remarkable liar and con artist to tell me that I’m not 'that' sick, whatever the hell that means, except I’m not that DEAD. I’m tired of anorexia being a secondary way of life. After 27 years that is the undeniable truth. It’s exhausting. I must be stronger.
Thank you for the fire that keeps you determined to show the truth. Thank you for not being afraid. I know you must wonder sometimes if the photos help or hurt. Today it helped me and you need to know that. I was specific so you could understand why it helped, not because I have any desire for anyone to peep through my soul's windows. It was important to be specific, so you could understand.
Some of us out here would like to know your story. Why this blog? Why ed's? I would be utterly astounded if there were not some personal element. I only hope you are healed now.
With gratitude and loving purpose,
ps”
PS, thank you for your sweet words. Be strong. Fight.
I want you to know that I am well, happy, and much loved.
One day I will share my own story and why I blog about EDs.
~ Medusa
To read more about Peggy Claude-Pierre and her Montreux Clinic in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada,which was shut down by the Government of British Columbia, please click here:
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