… And we’ll all sing along like before…
Goes the song.
Irritating when your internal MP3 is stuck on the same track and no matter how hard you shake it, it won’t stop. Trying to get away from it is just about as effective as trying to go on holiday without your head. And don’t we all wish we could do that at certain times in our life. Take enough hallucinogens and maybe it’s possible, but they’re not exactly cost effective and the insurance you’d need to take out is ridiculous.
No.
No way around it but to play enough music to flush this one out of the system.
This particular musical ghosting is a song by Del Amitri (who for some unknown reason, I always confuse with Dire Straits). An especially depressing number, aptly named, ‘Nothing Ever Happens’.
I guess it’s the theme of repetition that lends the song to my worn out inner ears; and for good reason.
On Wednesday, I retrace my tracks to the very same unit I was in over Christmas.
Yep.
That’s right.
Wednesday will see me standing outside what is going to feel like Hell’s doors.
And to be clear, it’s not that nothing will have changed, because I have. My illness has. My thinking has. I’m not on exactly the same rung of the ladder as I was in December.
What is hard, is that it’s the same old hole. The same darkness. And, pretty much the same distance to the light. (So maybe I AM on the same rung…)
Hence, ‘we all sing along like before’.
Last time I came out ran away because I couldn’t stand the increases in my diet. I left with a BMI of 15. Clearly not recovered in any sense really… Although it felt like it.
I want this to work… which means that I will have to work. Very hard.
It will be bearable, though it won’t feel it.
It won’t kill me, Ironically, it could save my life. But it won’t feel that way because the process of weight restoration will involve the slow death of a part of this illness, so it will feel like it.
In all the darkness, I must somehow manage to fix my eyes on a light I will not always see.
In order for recovery to take place, you have to believe that, just as there is always a sun and a moon, there is a new life beyond, and there is a different person behind, the illness / addiction.
The courage it takes to make this leap of faith is immense and for me personally, I don’t know if I can sustain it.
For what it’s worth I’m very proud of you for making a decision to choose health and life and happiness, wishing you all the best for this time around.
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That means a lot. Thank you so much. I have to admit to being in a complete head spin at the moment. I can’t seem to cope with the actual packing things and thinking of all the things I need to take with me in order to make it even a little more bearable. Stuff like chargers and slippers and paints and a blanket.. Thank you for commenting so kindly.
Hope you are doing okay…
firefly
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I’m so proud of your decision to keep fighting too! May God bless you and bring you complete healing. Mind. Body. And soul. Praying for you FF. ❤️
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Micey! Your prayers are very VERY much appreciated. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be able to stick this one out so I need to find the grace to hand over the control of my body to will of the staff in the unit. It terrifies me.
Thanks for being here.
firefly
x
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“Remember that I commanded you to be strong and brave. Don’t be afraid, because the LORD your God will be with you everywhere you go.””
Joshua 1:9 NCV
FF. you are facing your fear head on. This makes you brave! Hang on to Jesus! ❤️
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Thanks M. You are an amazing encouragement x
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Why again? Did you relapse?
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Yep. Relapse. This is to be my third round of inpatient treatment (having also made three attempts at recovering in a day unit). Another try…
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However many it takes. Do you live alone? Do you have safeguards against relapse?
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My thoughts are with you in this challenge, stay strong!
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Thank you so much Jessie
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