Another Proverbial Exit

Mornings like today, you just need a giant mug of coffee and a really yummy cinnamon apple scone. It's gray and cloudy, and pouring rain. I had to wake up at an hour which shouldn't even exist. and I spent way too much time tossing and turning in bed last night after a series of conversations that have needed to happen for years.

it started with a comment via google chat - a former/newly reacquainted friend saying something about how disgusting she looked and how she hates herself. i quickly retorted, without even thinking, that you shouldn't talk down on yourself. that you're still you, and you're still beautiful despite a jean size or number that's read on a scale. without even thinking twice, i repeated all the statements of truth that have been thrown at my for the past year or so.

You're beautiful.
Life's too short.
Don't hate yourself - you're still you regardless of a difference in size.


Over and over, and then i waited for her to respond. A few hours later, she messaged again, saying thank you, and that it's hard to hear and accept those words. I told her I thought I might understand better than anyone else. But that the important thing to remember, is that the Amy I see in a mirror is a-whole-fucking-lot different than the Amy that others see, when I walk down the street, or get on the bus, or stand in line at the coffee shop. It's a lot different than the Amy who sits behind a computer at work, or plays dressup in her boots on tuesdays and thursday.

Another pause.

I've closed the office, and she messages for me to come up stairs for a moment. I tell her I'm on my way, and start (another) longest trek of my life, I walk in and she's asking me something about work, I answer. I climb up onto the table and curl my legs under me, knowing that a much needed conversation is about to happen, and I need to prepare myself to not freeze and go into panic mode. I know that I want to finally do this. I want to let the cat out of the bag, and fight it out, lay everything out on the table, heart included, and let some small bit of healing take place. For both of us.

I don't necessarily know how the conversation started, but I do know that when she said the following statement, every residual 'bad' leftover inside of me, dissipated.

"I watched you turn from the Amy I met at Starbucks in 2007 to this other person whom I did not recognize. But I never confused the disorder, with you. I always knew it was the disorder acting out, in place of Amy. I knew that."

I stopped. I took a deep breath, and I relaxed. And I got the unfamiliar sensation of something leaving me. I felt it's proverbial exit. And when I realized that even when I couldn't separate myself from the disorder, someone who knew me well, could, I felt some sense of peace. And we were able to continue recounting the year that we lived together, and the lack of communication that caused us each to crumble.

There were tears, and some disagreement on reasoning behind certain actions. But alot of healing took place in those two hours.

We can only go up from here, folks.