It’s early in the morning and I come writing to you all coming off a very emotional night.
Around 10 p.m. last night, I started loathing my body. I don’t know how else to phrase it. I hate was totally hating it; every part of it. I tried clothes on; they looked terrible.
I body checked over and over again; each time was worse than the time before.
I was determined to tell Karen, my nutritionist, when I see her today, exactly how much I hate what I see and what we can do as a team to fix it, or ask her what I am doing wrong.
And then, 12 am hit, and I realized that it is my grandpa’s birthday, and all of that body loathing just disappeared and all I felt on my body were tears and more tears.
I have written about my grandpa before, who I called Papa.
He was my world, and when he passed away almost two years ago now, I believe he became my angel.
I usually don’t get sad when I think of him, because his spirit comes to visit me often and I feel his presence around me, so I don’t totally feel like I am without him.
But last night, it was not like that.
Last night, I felt I was without him; I strongly felt I was without him.
I so badly missed feeling him hold me, and hug me, and I wished I could hear his voice tell me “I am proud of you, Shira.”
I cried for two hours, just wishing I could hear those words.
I feel selfish for saying that, because I am not the one who should be in pain-if anything, my grandma is the one who should be crying; but I did cry; something I rarely let myself do, so that is that.
I still feel like crying now.
The pain I feel from not having my grandpa’s validation and support is something that I cannot put into words.
Even though I know he is watching over me and I know he is proud of me, I am longing to hear it from him.
This pain, and this longing, is not the same kind of pain that Ed puts me through.
Ed tries to imprison me; this longing for my grandpa’s physical presence wants to set me free.
And this time around, Ed cannot sooth my pain.
Restricting or not eating today will not make me cry less. It will not make my grandpa come back. It will not soften my heartache.
For the first time, Ed cannot fix things; yet I find myself still wanting to turn to him today anyway.
Turning to Ed would be like a stabilizer for these emotions of sadness and grief that I am feeling today.
But I refuse to do that.
To turn to Ed on my grandpa’s birthday, would be like a slap in the face to my grandpa.
It would be the ultimate let down to him.
So instead, I told myself last night, before I went to sleep, that today’s recovery will be in the name of my grandpa; in the name of my guardian angel; in the name of my papa.
I can’t say I won’t talk to Karen about all my anger towards my body and food right now; but I can say that I will treat myself kindly today; I will nourish myself and love myself the best that I can.
I just wish I can hear my grandpas voice.
I wish to hear the voice that I know would have had the power to cut Ed into tiny pieces.
I know this, because for my grandpa, I would have done anything; including disobey Ed.
But I am doing recovery for myself, and maybe that is even stronger than doing it only for my grandpa.
Today’s recovery is for you papa.