I couldn’t sleep. So, I pulled up tumblr and was endlessly scrolling down my news feed. The late hours of the night/earliest hours of the morning are a dangerous place to be. Those are the hours that have me missing old boy friends, conjuring up regrets, thinking of all those “should have saids”, and much much more. Those hours are dangerous.
This time, not so much.
I follow a lot of recovering/recovered people on tumblr simply for the fact that I find their posts to be relateable. One thing that I’ve come across a lot and just recently begun to disagree with is the idea of being a “warrior”.
1. a person engaged or experienced in warfare; soldier.
2. a person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage, or aggressiveness, as in politics or athletics.
I can see how someone could twist this definition a little bit and fit it into the mold of someone recovering from an eating disorder/depression/anxiety/etc. However, I respectfully disagree. I can only speak from my own experience and my own mind and heart. But, I am not a warrior.
I do not energetically face battle alongside my cohorts. I do not have weapons of mass destruction. When I initially wrote that last sentence it had “aside from love” tacked onto the end of it. I erased it because, when I began this journey I did not even have that. I do not have love, respect, strength within (or for) myself. Although, I am slowly learning to acquire these things. I absolutely have no “vigor” within me. 7 months ago when I finally threw my hands up in the air and was admitted inpatient in Denver CO, I had no strength – no zeal for life. My eyes, the only part of my physical body that was able to hang on to life, were at that point a dull spark-less color. I was dying. Warriors are strong, able-bodied, courageous people. I am scared. Every day I wake up, scared of what choices I may be faced with. I fear failure, but failure is the only option. You see, it’s failing if I go back to my eating disorder and it’s failing if I don’t go back. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, in my mind at least. My heart knows what’s best. By no means am I “experienced” in this line of battle. I feel like, even though it’s been 7 months now since I embarked on this journey, I am still a fish out of water. The difference is that now I know the motions to go through in order to keep up the doggy paddle, whereas before I had no idea how to even tread water.
Yes, I am fighting for my life every single day. But no, I am not a warrior. I aspire to be one. Maybe once I get further into my journey that is this life, and farther away from my eating disorder I will be able to call myself a warrior.
For the longest time while I was in Denver, I listened to Demi Lovato’s song, “Warrior”. I still love that song and I still find it relateable, but more in the way of what I aspire to be, not what I am. So the internet catch phrases, “ED Warrior” “Keep fighting warrior” “Stay strong warrior” etc etc etc…they’re a nice gesture, but I don’t really feel that they’re all that accurate.
Just my thoughts. Goodnight 🙂