Dante's inferno opens with Dante running through the woods from three horrible monsters. He runs for so long that he finds himself lost in the dark woods. He's tired, he's alone, and he realizes his doesn't know the diritta via, or right way out. He becomes conscious that he is ruining himself and finds himself falling into what he calls a basso loco, or deep place, where he says the sun is silent (I sol tace). My disordered world is my basso loco where I sol tace. The words found here are my desperate attempt to articulate what feels like my stumble through a place where up is down and food is greed, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It seemed so easy to find my way here but I'm finding it much harder to find the way out.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Ambivalence

"We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need." -Marya Hornbacher

I want to get well but I want to stay sick.  When I started trying to recover I never would've expected the ambivalence.  I thought my desire to stay sick would thin and diminish over time but it seems that it's only fighting harder to survive.  Every bite of food I put into my mouth is a battle to get it there and an even bigger battle to make it stay there.

I suppose this is what they call the letting go.  The weird aftermath when it's not quite over but you know that you've given into recovery.  So I sit and bicker with the bitch in my head and try not to grimace as I sweartogodinheaven that my thighs are expanding before my eyes.





I know I could vomit.  I know I don't have to eat it.  There bathroom is precisely 15 steps from where I stand and the trash bin 5.  But I won't.  I don't.  Sometimes but not always.  I hang on to the sometimes because they get me through the terribly horrible.

Remy
Posted by at 1 comment:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)