10.20.2009 Rebuilding

My sleep has been awfully irregular and I cannot seem to maintain a deep sleep throughout the night, leaving me vulnerable to falling prey to an unnecessary mid-day nap. Sleep problems and insomnia are a common problem in anorexics. Dr. B told me that when the body is starving, the first human necessity is stripped away - Food. First we need food and nutrients, then we need sleep. So without the first building block to health, we cannot obtain the second. When I was at Cornell for the last 3 years, I always thought that my sleep problems were normal for me, that it was my own biological clock because I still felt completely rejuvenated and awake when I started my mornings after waking up at 3-4AM. I would use the night to escape any social situations that might require me to bust out of my "bubble of security". My friends, like other collegiate adults, were off at parties and bars. I, on the other hand, was directed by my eating disorder to stay safe from any activities that would involve food or drinks or any sort of calorie engaging activity. Sure, anything academic or school related was fine because the main purpose of those assemblies was "productive". So eventually, I started to equate the word fun with work.


I will need to tell Dr. B about my Sleep problems.

It has been many weeks since I held a pen in my hand and wrote so furiously on paper. I must have left this joy in New York as well.

Speaking of NY, I should take some time to figure out why I started to purge there in the first place. I thought it was a physical symptom of something. I just felt nauseous after everything I ate, which caused problems for me and my roommate. She eventually moved out. We did not get along at all.
Living in my first roommate situation was incredibly difficult for me while I was fostering this disease. It should have been a memorable and fun time in my life. At one point, I decided that I was okay with the decided accommodations, that I would have to endure having a roommate instead of a single room, but I was faking it.

I remember going to Vic one night (a doctor friend I met 3 years ago during an internship at the NY Presbyterian Hospital), asking for a prayer. Feeling so miniature and insignificant in the "real world" as I saw Manhattan. I stood on top of my building's rooftop every night smoking a cigarette and wondering why my life was where it was at and who I really was. I felt like I would never reach the level of self-satisfaction in my life that I have spent so madly trying to build for the last twenty years. I wanted everything, and more.

Now that I think about it, what more was I really asking for? Let me try to count all of my blessings...

Family, friends, intimate bonds of love, supportive home, stability, financial security, privileged education, beautiful clothes, freedom of choice, proud parents, no discrimination as an Asian or Woman from the people who matter to me, unbreakable sibling relationship with my brother, unwavering friendships around the globe, academic curiosity, hope for a brighter future, Christian faith and beliefs, fruitful life ahead of me with a family and love, beautiful face and body gifted to me and only me by my loving parents and God...


That's it... I'm a gift to be treasured. Why keep myself from what my unique soul really desires from this lifetime? Why let others dictate what I can and cannot do? Why do I pose needless and tragic limits on myself?


I was letting the beauty of my life, a baby in my parents' eyes, a baby in the real world, take too much responsibility for the world's unforeseen mishaps. I am not superhuman. 


Although, I strived to become one.


I am always on a path of discovery, or should I say, "rediscovery". But I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere. At some point, I stopped learning, growing, maturing... I was walking on eggshells.


So? What is my plan?


Well, at this point, I have none... Is that so bad? Will it kill me? No.
Because I will always have a roof over my head and I will always be fed and nurtured. I do not live a life where I need to sleep with one eye open in fear that my life might be taken from me in my sleep. But at the rate that my disorder was controlling my actions, I was in dangerous reality of death. My heart (according to my physician at Gannett) was going to give up on me at any minute and I needed to take action immediately. 


Where did my perspective go? If someone is given a gift, she would use it to her advantage to help herself and others around her. Instead, I took all that I could and used it to harm myself and destroy my relationship with others...


I have been clouded by the demon within me. 


Is it too bold or early for me to identify this disease as something not me?
I feel pretty confident that I can see the light again. But it will be a long time and journey to clear the smoke and ashes left behind. Then after I clear the air, my city and kingdom will be rebuilt. But I cannot do this using my own two hands, I will need to ask for help (asking for help is the hardest thing in the world for me to do). There are many supportive hands and many loud and clear voices of trust that I can count on to help me rebuild my life. They will help me rebuild a city built on love. But this time things will be 100x more difficult than the first. All walls and roofs will have to be better constructed... waterproof, rainproof, windproof, fireproof.


I will rebuild a sanctuary this time. An inner haven where I can find solace when a dark cloud creeps my way again. I will need to learn to re-trust my true voice. I will need to learn to listen and observe all over again. But somehow, this seems less of a necessity than an inspired act. It is a new challenge for me, yet one that cannot be lost or forsaken. I will rule this land, my new body. However it turns out, I just need to rule it with a steady and unfaltering hand and smile. People I love will learn to love and trust me again. I will too.


I may lose battles, but I cannot lose the war. The clarity of my inner voice must guide me through rocky roads and rapid waters.