Currently I am reading the most fabulous book, which makes me SO happy because although I LOVE to read, I don’t often find time to do so (because my priorities are a bit skewed) and because I have not been able to find one I was totally into until now.
After seeing on one of Jenna’s posts, a recommendation for The Lost Wife, I started googling some reviews and I knew I would like it, historical fiction is my favorite genre after all, but I didn’t realize how much I would like it.
You see, without giving too much away, it is a love story about two people who were ripped apart due to the horrific circumstances of World War II. The story is captivating, but I think what gets me the most is the depth of their commitment and passion for one another.
Friends, lovers, companions, it is just mesmerizing how intense their feelings are, and how painful it was to lose that.
Anyway, I do not want to compare my situation with the Holocaust by any means. That is NOT AT ALL what this post is about, but I can’t help but read and think about Ryan and I.
By sticking by me these past few years, literally though SICKNESS AND HEALTH (but way more sickness, I am sad to say) it has shown me his love is unwavering in times that are tough.
I feel very fortunate for this, because I expected him to leave long ago.
Sounds pretty awful, right? Being married and sort of anticipating it not work out. But I don’t say that because I am not in love with my husband, more so because I haven’t seen too many good examples of lasting nuptials.
My family does not have a stellar track record when it comes to relationships (which is a whole separate post entirely) so I never put much faith in the tradition.
You might wonder then why I even went through with the practice and didn’t just have a long-term romance with Ryan, especially since we don’t want to have children, but at a healthier point in my life I was an optimist.
I thought, maybe I can be the exception to what is “normal” in my lineage, but the deeper I got into my eating disorder, that negative voice that kept getting louder and louder just kept jabbing, “your biological dad abandoned you, you obviously aren’t good enough for men to stick around.”
That doesn’t just pertain to John, but there have been a lot of examples in my life where I feel I have gotten really close to people, only to be devastated when they leave.
I guess I thought pushing Ryan away, but getting smaller and smaller, defying his every request, disobeying treatment plans, and ultimately selecting ED over him, it might be easier to deal with than if he chose to go on his own free will.
At least if we got divorced due to me being a psychotic sickling, I could somewhat justify the decision and maybe fight back when the mean voice keeps stating, “you just aren’t good enough.”
So I am sitting by my fire, every night, totally captivated by a man’s love that never falters, even when his wife is no longer there, and my mind drifts to the situation I am currently in with Ryan.
Before he left he asked me to get myself together, or come up with a plan, by the time he gets home. After three years of being hopeful that I would eventually get better, he is putting his foot down, and I cant say I blame the man.
I left him the second I decided my eating disorder was a bigger part of my life than him.
Isnt that what I tell him, or show him daily, by still engaging in behaviors even though he begged me not to?
Am I not being extremely under appreciative of him and what we have by barely being physically present, and emotionally/mentally completely gone?
These are terrible things to admit, type out and share with the world, but the cold hard truth is this:
By remaining sick, I am being selfish and depriving him of the love he deserves, because as he often tells me, “you cannot fully love another until you love yourself.”
This breaks my heart and several people have called me out on the fact that although I say these things, there have only been minimal changes made.
They are right! Recovering means absolute discomfort and although I say I am so terribly troubled by the minute little alterations I have tried, am I as “out-of-my-box” as I was even in partial-hospitalization?
What do I do? How do I push myself to do better, be better, and be well to contribute to this marriage?!
The answer is obvious…I mean, just do it already because I have far too much to lose at this point, and an awful lot to gain (no pun intended) but I am still struggling so much with how to get over the guilt, take the plunge and just have faith that life WILL be better on the other side.
Goodness, why is this so hard?!
Thank you for listening, once again, to the same old story.
All talk, minimal walk.
Please let today be the day where I leap toward being healthy, happy, and whole. Please, please, please.