Sorry. A five letter word that in
many cases must be wrenched from our unwilling mouths to apologise for
something we have done badly. Its use has been exploited to such an extent
whereby it is near impossible to achieve any semblance of sincerity from it being
spoken aloud, sounding almost phony to its intended recipient. This poses a
dilemma when one feels a genuine regret for the hurt they have caused and
wishes to apologise with true honesty, with no word able to convey the depth of
their remorse. Subsequently, we are submerged in our guilt due to the inability
to express our grief for what we have done to another- unable to ask for their
forgiveness. The culpability swallows you up by burdening you with a horde of
unresolvable ‘what ifs’. The key is not to look back in regret but to instead strive
to solve your wrongdoing by actively showing redemption until you have reached
the atonement you sought out for. If we are willing enough, we can all be
forgiven. It is of importance to remember however that you cannot begrudge the
life you could have had if you had behaved differently but aim to make your
future more satisfying by learning from your mistakes; it is only through experiencing
blunders that we can make a conscious effort to change. As a sufferer of
Anorexia Nervosa, it took the acceptance of the offenses I had instigated since
succumbing to the spiteful disorder to begin the journey I am currently on to
recovery. I hurt my most cherished relations by permitting the Anorexia to exile
me from the very people who could lend me the most support. In becoming so
insular I disregarded the emotions of others, deliberately severing the vital
connection I had with them due to my Anorexia’s need to conquer me. The disorder required me to isolate myself in
order to continue to vanquish the person I once was by segregating me from
those who would keep me on the path of sanity. Though I am consistently
doubtful of the way people can truly care about me, the only way of pushing
those who would aid me to recovery away was to hurt them. And so I did. For
this I am sorry.
I was lulled into a trance
created by my Anorexia, which led me to believe my success in rigidly controlling
my food and exercise was the only way of consoling me of my previous failures. What
it failed to allow me to notice was the pain it caused others to see me destroy
myself and outwardly enjoy it. I was selfish. Snapping out of this dream-like
state brought about the realisation of how much damage I had done socially, but
the true comprehension was only gleaned upon reading the testimonies I asked my
family to write. Though it is normal for every family to argue, last year I
seemed to be at the centre of every debate that ensued within my household. It
was therefore difficult for me not to feel to blame for each and every quarrel,
despite my parents’ insistence that if it wasn’t about me they would have
disputed another subject. These family debates are normal, however the ones
between my sister and I were on an altogether more significant level. My
siblings processed my disorder in an altogether different way to that of my
parents, unsurprising due to the unique relationship one has with their brother
or sister. I believe my siblings and I have learnt from our dad in the way we
keep our deepest sentiments buried underneath layers of false contentment- hence
the way they therefore coped with my Anorexia is utterly mystifying to me. I am
in no doubt however, that the resulting angry outbursts and spiteful comments
we made to one another was a mere glimpse of the tumult within. Thus it was
with intense trepidation that I explored
the intricate layers of their thoughts and feelings.
