In My Defencelessness I Am Free.
Haters, anorexia, religion & high school
Things are stirring these weeks. Under the surface still. As yet, unclear. I’m neck deep in reworking a chapter on addiction in general and anorexia in particular. I’m neck deep in questioning what the fuck I’m doing with my life.
I mentioned last week that this place of writing happened to overlap being 47 and getting pictures taken for my business. I mentioned too that getting pictures taken is one of the most triggering things I know.
The day after, I came upon online comments about me…by someone who dislikes me (like, a lot).
When I say “came upon,” what I actually mean is that, against all good advice and all better knowing, I went digging. What I discovered left me sobbing for hours.
The comments were anonymous, of course (as such comments often are). Full of projection and assumptions. Empty of courage and compassion.
So, after many tears, I’m sitting with it. I’m practicing with it. I’m writing about it. I’m asking what it has to teach me. I’m doing what I need to take care. I’m weighing whether staying in certain situations is worth it.
Very possibly, it is not. When you’re in recovery, you learn that recovery comes first.
