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Little Boxes

     This little box is quite unbecoming for a young lady with big dreams and aspirations. The constant fog of fear so thick you grasp for air, but it is simply not enough. Wandering in circles perplexed as to when it became so dark, and how you could have ever allowed this to occur... looking in the mirror and wanting so badly to "fix" all the problems- harboring such a deep self inflicted hatred you torment yourself until everything is finally right. But, you come to discover, you cannot fix all your problems through the starvation, the exercise, the "fitness"... no. The problem lies deep beneath the skin; with the rooted arsenic that has plagued your now eternal winter... and it feels as though you are left stumbling without a purpose to be found.
     If I am supposed to be getting better, than why am I still struggling? Why am I such a failure? It's only a matter of time before I fall again, so why even bother?... This wave of guilt, fear, and uncertainty seems to wash over me each day as if it were a broken record player. I fear many things- eating, planning my meals, assuring I actually eat at meals, being around others, and the overbearing thought in the forefront of my mind of what if I am never able to recover?
     I've been going through the motions of therapy, nutrition, medical appointments, weigh ins, meal prep, groups, and all such things from my hospitalization and now into my 5 days a week in a partial program. Knowing it is my last week (only because I have to leave for school- not because I am where my weight needs to be) is terrifying. I worry that perhaps I am not ready, and I don't have my shit together the way I should. But I also know that sometimes in life we may never be "ready" to do things, but putting our best foot forward is half the battle. Sometimes, we have to know life and our vicious minds will attempt to shatter us, but we must keep pressing forward.
     Tonight I was talking to a friend of mine, and she made the most compelling statement- and it really made me stop to think as she told me "There is nothing wrong with you" at first perplexed by this bold statement, she had continued on. There may and will be struggles, and no. I may not win the first, or second, or even the third time. But the point is that I am fighting, and I am capable. There is beauty in pain. I truly believe this to be true for the trials we face, serve to make us stronger people.
     This little box constricts me, and while I am working fervently to break the walls away and allow the light to shine, I know I will have setbacks. That's ok. And maybe I won't be able to be wonderwoman at everyone's beck and call as I try to take care of myself *A new concept to me* that is okay too. I am stitched together through my beauty, imperfection, quirks, and flaws. My mirror may be a little bent, and distorted... maybe even cracked and shattered- but perhaps that has needed to happen all along.  

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