“Ding-Dong: Relapse Calling!”

Note: I took this blog post down after writing it last night because I felt it was written from a very post-recovery perspective, which I know many of you are not ready to hear. But based on the feedback and comments I got after taking it down, I've decided to go ahead and put it back up...it will be interesting to hear how you all react to this. :) I had a bad night. Ok here goes!
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Wow - Some Days it’s JUST as Hard.

I remember this. In a huge way, it’s humbling for me to experience this tonight, and to write it down for you. But then again, I promised to be honest with you, and I know you can relate, so once again, here are all of my guts. The good, the bad, the ugly… the completely flatly humbled. If you had asked me yesterday if I thought I would come within an inch of relapse today, I probably would have said “no way, not me.” Yet here I stand, on the edge of the cliff, looking out into the abyss of nothingness once again.

“Do it.” Ana says to me.

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Three years ago I married my best friend. We were both actors – and met on the stage. We still love the theater, but find it harder and harder to fit the demanding rehearsal schedules into a more “normal” life. We tend to still get our annual fix though, (in fact we just closed the DC premier of one of our favorite musicals together.)

Tonight, my husband, let’s call him Judah, received an out of the blue casting call from a Director friend of ours looking for a last minute replacement for a show that opens in 3 weeks.

“That’s great – I’m really happy for you, Judah” I said as I was driving home, genuinely excited for his opportunity, but feeling a twinge of sadness knowing I would miss him over the rigorous rehearsal weeks ahead.

I had just hung up the phone when I began to feel a completely unexplainable sense of anxiety. What would this mean? Three weeks alone? What am I going to do with my evenings? Of course this blog came to mind.

A mischievous little devil popped up inside of me that I haven’t heard from in a while and pointed out “You’ll be home alone. No one will be watching you or what you eat. You’ve made a few friends on those pro-ana sites… come on, give it another whirl – for old time’s sake - it’ll be fun!”

I pushed the thought out of my mind, as I have become so accustomed to doing for the past few years. But I continued worrying about the impending loneliness of the weeks ahead, and what I might do if left alone.

Judah is my world – he is absolutely the light of my life. I began to feel worried and incredibly anxious as I pulled into our parking space, pushed my way through the icy December air and into our house.

The warm, sweet air hit my face like a fireball. Judah was waiting at home to kiss me goodbye before leaving for his first rehearsal.

I didn’t mean to get into a fight, honestly, I didn’t. But sometimes I really suck at verbal communication and I think I ended up sounding really selfish. Maybe I was being selfish. I want him to go do the show, but I really will miss him, and his being gone is going to be hard in a lot of ways.

And, out of the blue, Ana stepped in to my aid.
“Let me handle this” she said as she breezed by me confidently.

The next thing I knew, Judah was gone and I was sobbing on the bed, screaming with my face in the pillow like I haven’t done in years.

Ana was there, sitting on the bed next to me, stroking my back with her fragile little hand saying “There there. If he doesn’t care, don’t worry – you know I do.”

And that’s how I got back on the edge of that damned cliff.

I stayed on the edge there, feeling claustrophobic in my own skin for a good twenty minutes. It felt like hours - tears streaming down my face and soaking my pillow as I stood on the precipice. What to do. Ana was telling me to starve myself. Mia was telling me to empty the fridge. And, for the first time in a good 3 years, I could not even hear Kate.

Just then, the phone rang.
I ignored it.
It rang again.
I silenced it.
It rang a third time.
I looked to see that it was Judah calling repeatedly.
I did not pick up.
Ana and Mia were still in my head.

I got a voicemail from a rather frustrated and sad sounding Judah saying:

“I just wish you would talk to me. It’s really not fair to me or to you …obviously I care about you, and I don’t know why you’re so upset with me. I try, I really do – to help you and support you and to give you what you need. And if something conflicts, we need to talk about it, but I just wish you would actually talk to me. I love you.”

And it dawned on me what had happened – again.

You see, Ana is a very jealous friend. She doesn’t allow me to love or pay attention to anyone more than her. I sat bolt upright in bed and wiped the tears away. I replayed our fight in my mind and listened, with horror, to the alien words coming out of my mouth in slow motion, instant replay:

“…Because I suck as a wife.”
“I’m sorry – apparently I’m just not good enough…”

And it dawned on me: that’s not me talking.
That’s Ana doing what she does best:
1) Telling me what a big, gigantic fuck up I am and
2) Pushing away real love since I’m not worthy of it “yet.”

The rest of this evening is history. Did I restrict instead of eating dinner? Did I purge my brains out? I’m not sure the answer really matters. The important thing was that I recognized that Ana was, once again, attempting to destroy my relationship with my husband, and I resolved not to let that happen. I picked up the phone. I called him back.

To tell the truth, I didn’t starve, binge, or purge tonight. (And I deserve a freaking trophy for that, am I right?!) But I almost feel like that is beside the point.

Five years ago I resolved to recover because of the havoc Ana and Mia had wreaked over my life and over my relationships. Since then, it’s not been an easy road. Have I relapsed? Sure. I’ve fallen on my face over, and over, and over. In a sense I think I will always be in recovery. But that is OKAY! I’ve learned a lot about accepting myself, flaws, failures, relapses and all. Sometimes we forget that we need to forgive ourselves just as much – if not more – than we need to forgive others who hurt us. I chalk tonight up as one big win for Kate, for Judah, and for the happiness I’ve built in my new recovered life.

Can any one of you out there in cyberspace celebrate with me? Tonight is a big night, and no one knows it but me (well, and now all of you J). Because when Judah comes home, I’ll be present here – waiting for him, ready to be here for him, too. I could very easily have missed that, as I have missed and lost so many nights and relationships before.

I really wonder what you will say to this.
xoxoxoxox
Kate

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