The Jump...
I’ve held off posting this for a few weeks now. I was worried that people might read it and expect it to be all uphill from here as ‘she’s let go!’. But… I don’t think, and hope people aren’t as naive as that, or at least not anyone who might be reading this. So… I’m posting it. I set this blog up as MY outlet, a space for MY voice to be heard louder than anorexia’s. My blog isn’t a story book assuring a ‘happy ever after’, it’s the reality of MY battle with a mental illness that breeds on silence.
I’m still battling, I’ve still not got it all figured, but I’m certainly a lot further forward than I have ever been, but now I must do the next bit. So this is where I’m at…
‘It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her’.
I was sent this poem, on one of my hardest days and I’ve clung onto the words ever since. I’ve read and re-read it time and time again, wistfully hoping that one day these words would ring true for my story too. I know that clinging onto them alone won’t get me better, but holding onto the hope that they carry has certainly helped to get me this far.
‘A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her’.
I don’t know what the ending to the chapter ‘Anorexia’ looks like, but for the first time ever I feel like I might really be starting it.
Last week I was sat in my 1:1 session frustrated. ‘Where do you think you are Jemima? If you had to visualise it, what would it look like?’… ‘A cliff and I’m standing on the edge. I know I have to jump or I’ll stay stuck here forever, but it’s scary. It’s really scary’. ‘And what’s below?’ she asked. ‘Water, but I don’t know how deep or rough’.
We ran with this analogy for the rest of the session, and what became clear was that jumping now feels like my only option. She helped me see the power, that I won’t be jumping alone, so many are stood beside me ready to jump with me. And what’s more, below is a sea of ‘lifeboats, rafts, and small islands’. It might get choppy, but we acknowledged that I’m a strong swimmer, and I’m also a jumper. I reminisced on a past holiday in Italy remembering that I actually enjoyed the thrill of jumping! At the end she asked me to send her a photo of me jumping, ‘once a jumper always a jumper Jemima’.
She’s right. I am a jumper. Not only that but I do actually enjoy it.
If I can just JUMP and trust that there are lifeboats below, not so much as to rescue me, but to help when the waves feel bigger than me. If I can just do that, then maybe I can let go.
I do realise it’s not as simple as to ‘just let go’, if it were, recovery wouldn’t be such a struggle. But I certainly think there’s merit in getting to the point where you know that the only way forward is to let go.
There are people calling me in, ‘it’s not as cold as you think Mima!’. There are rafts, small islands, and even my very own boat.
This next part is ‘The Jump’.
I just hope I can stay brave.
