Such a true phrase. I spend nine months preparing for my Walk of Witness but now that the challenge is done, life goes on. As the world turns and puts even more days between the walk's completion and the present, its significance seems to pale and it becomes harder and harder to reconnect to those moments of true peace that I felt on the journey.
Life goes on. And as I take my eye off the ball, Anna starts to worm her way back in.
I have just spent a few days with my parents in the house I grew up in. It has been a tense time, for reasons not entirely down to myself (including my father having sprained his ankle) but I do feel mostly responsible. When you live alone, it is easy to kid yourself that you are 'managing fine', and keeping your illness under control, like a high-maintenance pet. But when you are living at close quarters with others, it is more difficult to keep up obsessive behaviours and compulsive food rules.
I know that my parents concern stems from their love for me. But it doesn't stop me from getting frustrated when my actions upset them, even if I can predict it in advance. I should have known that taking advantage of a half price sale on 10 calorie jellies would upset my mum ("I thought you had stopped counting calories..."). And that wearing a slightly tighter T shirt would prompt a lecture from my dad on how important it is for me to maintain my weight. I can't hide anything from them, even as I slip back into restrictive habits. My mum soon noticed that I hadn't been having my usual dried fruit and nuts with my breakfast, or that I often skipped my lunchtime treat and after-noon snacks. Whereas my dad picked up that I have been trying to do longer runs than on my last visit home, to make up for not being able to go to the gym.
And of course it makes them anxious. They can see, all too easily, that they are losing their daughter again to anoreixa. I can't bear to upset them, but the guilt is becoming insurmountable again. I long to enjoy a slice of cake or a nice dessert (that wasn't from the weight watchers range) but as soon as I put it in my mouth I would detest myself for being so greedy and fat,fat,fat... My life is shrinking again into a cycle of compulsive exercise, calorie counting and becoming increasingly preoccupied with food: a half-life. A selfish life that hurts others. A life where one of my favourite pastimes is to prowl the aisles of supermarkets, lingering by the sugary goods, but without buying anything. I have been rotten company these past few days - tired, irritable and distant. When my poor mum has tried to encourage me, pointing out the different foods we have in the house, I have just snapped or turned away, not wanting to be tempted by it all.
This can't go on.
But I have a chance to get back on the right path. Tomorrow I depart for my proper 'holiday' - over a week in the place most dear to my heart: Venice. The place where I am happiest and feel closest to God. I won't be able to run, let alone gym, and all I can do is be open to receive whatever blessings God will give me as I spend time in the holy places there. The light on the water is magical and in it I can hope to be reborn.
For once, maybe, I can be nearly normal...or at least find some happiness. Hopefully it will give me space to think and draw strength....if only it could be enough to finally throw off this demon.
We will see. I wish you a good week.
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