Wicked Reflections : Dear Self-Abuse, its me…
- AuntieWicked
- Mar 12, 2012
- 6 min read
Dear Self Abuse, Its Me,
Auntie Wicked.
I have just now paused in my internet surfing. About once a week I check the fitness tag on Tumblr to keep myself on the right track, balance out my food-porn with healthy junk, and teach my mind some good-form. I stumbled across a good deal of pro-Ana, and pro-Mia content (that is Anorexia and Bulimia for you who’ve never heard the terms), along with a healthy dose of beautiful young people being jerks to themselves. As ever, this leaves a bad taste in my mouth, not because I’m some random old-person who’s nosing into their acceptable methods of being beautiful people, but because I’m some random old-person who was once guilty of the same terrible self-abuses.
Just this year I grew a new mindset, the screaming, hardcore voices of narcissistic weight-demons spent more time as a flock of fans that just wanted me to win. Drill Sergeants turned from dark, alien figures trying to bury me, into motivators for me to be a stronger person (because lets face, there really isn’t such a thing as being too strong, no matter what ANYONE tells you).
It was the most important tradition of my life, and I want you to know that the path could benefit you as much as it did me. I spent so much of my youth hating myself. That’s right, Hate. It wasn’t something I could talk about in the hippy culture I was surrounded by. Words like ‘hate’ where swept under bad-vibes rugs and my only real option was to deny or gloss over how I felt lest I risk another sing along about self-esteem. My only choice became to deny my feelings and pretend to be nice, sweet, and positive. I assumed at the time that my self-hatred was my own fault for being weak, and the ugly bile of my feelings where something terrible, monstrous, and unique to me (and that one guy with the bad temper who wore black and listened to Metal).
It got worse as I left my teens and headed into my 20’s. I have mentioned before in “Tale of the Fat Girl” that I was openly encouraged to show my worth by self-abusive self-control. ‘Because Models do it’, ‘Because you do what you -have- to if you want to be hot’, the words would re-cycle again as I fluttered through personal trainers and exercise videos. It would, in ways I didn’t quite understand at the time, trigger me back into my unhappy places. (I will let our gentle readers red the extent of my own self-abuses if they care to, rather than go-over it again.)
The truth is, I wanted very badly to get well, and not hurt myself. I also wanted to be beautiful, accepted, and wanted ‘the best’ for myself. I was bright and ambitious despite all these things, which often seemed to feed the horrors instead of making me successful at my aims. By the time I had a work-out routine, my self hate still sat like a disease inside my heart, mind, and mirror.
In my early 20’s I was sick, and the Good Nurse told me that crash diets, eating disorders, and things like that often caused my type of sickness. I was too sick for it to really sink in. Post sickness, I faced the ugly world that you do. I found myself getting my reward buttons getting hit, positive attention for the results of the sickness that where the results of self-abuse. Weight-loss admiration, getting hit on, suddenly being funny and beautiful. To this day I still get positive feedback that leads to a personal disquiet when someone attempts to reward me for being ‘beautiful’ as a result of being so sick.
Its not that I blame them, they are all a result of the society that is causing so many of us to hurt ourselves so bad, but that doesn’t change the ugly, or how difficult it is to find strength in the face of it. I say this because I know the odds you face when you face this monster. I want you to know that I know why you abuse yourselves so terribly. People at large don’t understand, or care about the how’s and why’s, and you feel like there is no one there to hold your hand.
We are soldiers if we live through the sickness to suffer the ill effects of Eating Disorders. Its hard in the midst of your living hell to remember you might survive this, and bear the scars and sickness of all your pain. While I’m sick and scarred, I want to tell you, despite everything, it gets better. It sounds corny, I know, but I could have never imagined a time where I found the part of myself that loves to run away, and let her run for joy. I do yoga for the glow of peace, and to alleviate pain, and I never thought it was possible to have moments free of pain that weren’t as a result of pure numbness. Last week I attended my first dance class in years, and I was, for once, less embarrassed, I had fun in a group of near-strangers. I didn’t compare their bodies to mine, and most importantly I didn’t humiliate myself into a dark and defensive mood. I want to be fair, but I can’t be here. This doesn’t happen overnight, and you don’t get better by magic. You won’t just wake up one day and love yourself, no matter what you do. Like most cures, its a matter of deciding to take a journey, believe in progress above final result, and learn to deal with hard work. Its harder work than flogging yourself, and listening to the inner voices that degrade you into thinking your only value is how your body looks, or if you are wanted. For one because even the most Beautiful and WANTED people feel as terribly alone as you do. You heard me, yes you, we are all human beings, fat, brown, pink, Muslim, Atheist, or skinny, we all have the same feelings. Don’t trust them when they lie, or believe them when they deny, don’t let petty bullshit put you down, or decide that you need to continue to take your self-hate out on your poor bodies.
Hate is not strength, you can’t afford to indulge it. Make it small in your mind, because you can’t Ana, Mia, or Overeat the hate and pain away. Hate and Pain are fires, and hurting yourself because of them only act as fuel to the burn.
So what now? What if you are all alone? What if the world turns against you, and they don’t understand? What if your loved ones seem to undermine you at every turn, and you don’t even have on other person to support you? This is the least fairy-tale answer I have, and it pains me to have to give you this advice. No one can heal all your wounds, you can’t wait for one person to inspire you to live for yourself. You must become your own love, your own parent, your own screaming bleacher-fans, and you must learn to do this no matter what the cost. Anyone or Thing that would get int the way of that process was and is toxic to begin with.
With that, I turn the fairy-tale on with some magic words that you need to keep in your mind as you begin this long process of ceasing to hurt yourselves.
When you are talking or thinking about yourself, you need to be mindful. Take a moment later, when you have a moment, and imagine the someone you care about the most. Then imagine how you would feel if someone was talking to your loved-one the way you are talking to yourself. Are you mad at them? Would that make you jump to their defense? It should, and you shouldn’t let anyone, including YOU speak to yourself that way.
You can’t wake up tomorrow well, you have to stop hurting yourselves. Life is difficult, facinating, tragic and beautiful enough without self-harming. Stop today, and find a way to seek joy, even if you can’t find it every day.
Who cares? I do. I care.
UPDATE : Since I have written this, Tumblr, which seems to have noticed the problem to, has endeavored to put an end to Self-Abuse blogs, saying that supporting the recover and health of those who have these disorders is important, but it refuses to participate in the glorification of Self Harm. We are very proud of Tumblr, and thank the staff for their actions.
http://mashable.com/2012/02/23/tumblr-self-harm-policy/http://staff.tumblr.com/post/18132624829/self-harm-blogs
Self Harm Recovery Resources :
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