Memory.
A vital gift that gives us the ability to learn and build on past experiences. Remembering
events we are fond of in our lives brings us joy, as we summon a mere whisper
of the intense happiness felt at the time. It is important to remember and
cherish our pasts. But what happens if our memory fails us; when we want to suppress
the events in our lives that are pivotal yet so painful. Can we then honestly
say we have learned, accepted and moved on from the pain? Locking away such
memories is often the easiest path to choose in traumatic experiences, yet
whether it is the right one very much depends on the fragility of the person’s
mind. I find many, unlike me, are unwilling to relive past failures but this
does not make them weak, as I can still give them a voice. We may not share the
same memories or experiences, but we can all relate to an aspect or two from
someone else’s struggles.
My
jet-setting summer ended on a high with a trip to Italy with my sister. At
first I was apprehensive of going due to my rapid weight gain over summer and we
all know that Italian specialities consist of pizza or pasta i.e. carbs and
more carbs. I have never been afraid of this food group and I have never really
struggled to reintroduce carbohydrates to my diet, however I would never have
them in such large quantities either. This is in addition to the knowledge of
the generous addition of another of Italy’s delicacies, olive oil. When cooking
for myself I NEVER use any type of fats. Whether I am pan-frying or stir-frying
food, I steer clear of oil. Therefore, due to the accumulations of scary
factors in the dishes I knew I would not restrain myself from having, I was
definitely preparing myself for a big challenge.
From
day one, I started the day off with a pastry in the plane, a pasta dish at
lunch and polished this off with an entire pizza for dinner. Rather than feel
horribly guilty, I let myself go with it; it is so bizarre how food is so much
easier when I am abroad. My sister and I rekindled our rocky relationship
despite spending so much time together over the week and generally getting on
each other’s nerves. The amazing thing I have realised about my relationship
with my sister is that we are simply so alike. When I fancied a pizza she was
right there with me (despite her gluten intolerance) and the same went for our
‘gelato’ and Nutella crepe cravings; we generally seemed on the same page with
eating. This made me realise that maybe I am finally getting back to normal and
appreciating food and allowing myself to indulge in moderation. I can now
officially reveal with pride (and a little horror) that I dug into 5 whole
pizzas including the crust over the course of a single week!
I
was recently told that my body hadn’t quite healed itself and that I had to
take it easy. In pushing myself to be ‘normal’ it was easy to forget the
repercussions of putting myself in situations that I am not entirely ready for;
this would consist of drinking alcohol. With my return back to university, I
have struggled with the knowledge that most social event involve some sort of
calorie-intake. All I have wanted since the end of summer is to resume
normality in my eating patterns, as I have really let myself go. I am so afraid
of the fact that I cannot seem to stop eating horrendous amounts of chocolate,
does this mean therefore that I have started bingeing?! Having so long
restricted the amount of indulgent foods I would have and the knowledge that I
still need to put on weight, I just can’t seem to stop nibbling away’ I have lost
control of the control. What if I can’t stop? What implications will this have
on my recovery and body confidence? I just can’t seem to stop…
I do
not want to be the social recluse I became over the Christmas period last year,
yet after a string of bad reactions to alcohol, I have been afraid of going out
with my friends. This really puts a strain on relationships that I really count
on, as I am deliberately leaving myself out of spending time with people. It
makes me feel silly, boring and somewhat lonely despite knowing that so many
people are behind me. It is hard to be so socially independent and enjoy the
comfort of peace in my own room, as it limits my interaction time especially
with my flat mates who are such lovely girls but far more out-going than I am.
I sometimes feel I am so different to them, yet I know this is my own fault. I
have so many memories of amazing nights out spent with my friends that I do not
know what halts me.
When
I look back 3 years, I remember darkness in my life. Not only in the dredged up
feelings that lurk about my mind, but the picture seems almost grey in a
clichéd way. I have unknowingly let the memories of this time trickle away; as
they have lost the vivacity and poignancy they once held. Bizarrely, I feel
that I cannot safely say the person in those memories was in fact me. My
reflection in the present is that of a happy person and I see in myself all the
things I have so far accomplished. I am becoming a whole person again, as I see
the shrivelled ‘Voldemort-like’ creature cowering in the background of my
reflection. I have not quite dispelled
that demon from my life, but I am deep in the process of doing so.
