Second Stage of Grief: ANGER

Well, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross was right in that grief has several stages. I've been up and down through most all of them. Today is stage 2: ANGER. I'm crying again. Tears of fear and frustration. I have zero passes because my weight hasn't gone up, despite eating all this damn food and I haven't purged since I've been here. I get stern lectures from the nurses when they see me doing any kind of exercise. I'm beyond restless, all this boredom and all this energy, and I'm not allowed to expend it. I find my thoughts are becoming more negative as the day drags on and on...

I feel pathetic, I'm 34 and I'm like a child, learning to eat again, and having almost no control over my environment. Anorexia is having a temper tantrum. My inner anger comes out in hot tears, streaming down my face. I'm so tired of this sadness, this loneliness, this pain. I'm terrified of gaining weight, I really am, and there's this illogical part of me that is pleased that my weight chart is not good and therefore I have been denied even the simplest pleasure of going downstairs to get a coffee with a nurse. I'm angry today. I'm sad today. Weekends are hard here, too much time to think and too much time to listen to the rebellious voice of anorexia. 

When I learned that I was very lucky to be alive, I felt a strange bubble of anger sitting in my throat. I was angry that I hadn't simply been allowed to slip away. My loved ones would know that I had agreed to get help, but just before I received it, I would pass away. That is so hard to admit. It sounds so weak and selfish, like I would prefer the easy way out. I spoke with another patient who had the same anger in the same situation. It helped me to feel less awful for these ugly thoughts. 

I'm angry that now I have to endure the pain of recovery all over again. I have to be in a hospital, but this time Im 34, not 19. I feel angry that I'm still fighting at age 34 and I feel pathetic. I'm scared, I'm terrified that I will fall again and never make anything of this life. 

Apparently God has a different plan for me. I wasn't meant to leave this earthly body just yet.  I wasn't saved from death just to give in again. 

Dear God, please help me to endure the hard days. Help me to trust that it will be okay. I am not strong without my hand in yours. Please show me why I'm still here, show me my purpose. 

The beautiful, silver lining of all this, has been receiving messages from fellow eating disorder sufferers of support and hope, and also gratitude because I have motivated them to get help. This brings purpose and meaning to this suffering.  If it wasn't for so much amazing support and love, the anger would overwhelm me. I will keep fighting, knowing that I am not fighting alone.

Thank you April for sending me this today. It's just what I needed. Xoxo