Starting Over

The time has come for me to face the world. The time has come for me to face the fear of failure that

has been taunting me, eager to push me down for my deemed shortcomings these past couple of weeks. Where to begin?

After a mere 10 days at the ashram, I decided to leave. An urgency to get out overcame me the day I left, a pressing desire to be back home where I would be safe, safe from all the struggles that had been rising to the surface. Though I knew even at the moment of decision that this running away tactic, away from myself, would not do away with these internal struggles, the idea of being home, in a more freeing and safe environment felt like the best choice. I packed my belongings, said my peace to the kind and truly amazing people I had met and gracefully made my exit as best I could. Driving home, I felt as though the grass would be greener, that I would be better able to handle the increasing levels of depression and anxiety.

Come to find out, the struggle was just beginning. These past two weeks being back home, trying to again find my footing, my sense of grounding, I have felt as though the roller coaster of emotions has amplified. Being thrown back into reality and forced to face the world head on has thrown my recovery from the eating disorder into a bit of a tailspin. I have had relapses much more frequently than I have had in a very long time and it has jolted me to the point of feeling like I had hit a new rock bottom. I have experienced increasingly low levels of hopelessness, more intensely than I have had in quite a long time. Feelings of depression, discouragement, incompetence, inadequacy and feeling like I had failed rose rapidly to the surface. Did I really leave the ashram only to increase my levels of suffering and hardship? 

I have struggled to put into perspective the fact that maybe it really wasn't the right time or place for me to be at the ashram. Yes, it was a great opportunity to overcome these issues I've had but as I have come to find out, it doesn't take being secluded in a spiritual community to make these struggles rise to the surface. Is there some regret over wasting an opportunity like this? Maybe. 

But, when I go to the place of regret or guilt, I know I am only adding to my present distress. I can't change the decision I made, and what's done is done, so I am tying my best to look at this experience as just that, an experience where I tried my best. Leaving and deciding it wasn't for me or wasn't the right time does not mean I failed. It is what it is and to rehash this decision and wonder what if, does nothing but leave me with feelings of failure and regret.

So, the question is now what? How do I find my sense of direction when I have no idea what I am working toward? I feel as though I have no real sense of where to go from here, feeling lost and confused. No longer a student, safely secluded in the routine of classes, studying and social activities, I feel at a loss for how to find a new routine and schedule. Applying for jobs has been so overwhelming and discouraging to the point where I have struggled to hold onto the littlest bit of hope. Each day, I feel as though I am faced with the big question of, what am I going to do with my life? I've been putting so much pressure on myself to figure out my career move and to get my life together, that it has been spiraling me in just the opposite direction. 

With no feeling of control over finding a job, I have turned to the one thing that has been a crutch in the past: the eating disorder. And what has that left me with? More misery, discouragement, feelings of isolation, low motivation, hopelessness and frustration. Each time, I have engaged in behaviors, knowing all the while that this way of coping only adds to my emotional distress, yet the temporary numbing out and self-punishment acting as incentives to engage anyways. Once I have engaged in the binging and purging, I spiral downward into feelings of worthlessness, failure and scarily, even feelings of not wanting to live, at least not the life I am living now. 

So, what do I do then? I grasp onto the other tangible, controllable aspect I have to lean onto: exercise. Something that I have struggled to maintain a healthy relationship with has quickly manifested into a form of self-punishment and a means to give myself the sense of an illusory and temporary sense of control and compensation for the binging. Man oh man, is this cycle ever so exhausting. Each time I've made my way through the cycle: the restricting and controlling the food, obsessing over the calories and exercise, all fueled by the anxiety, rounding the corner into episodes of the bulimia, fueled by the depression and self-sabotaging intentions, I come out with even more resolve to end this cycle. 

I am fully aware of this cycle, am open about it to my family and friends, yet actually intervening and stopping this self-perpetuating cycle has been a challenge to say the least. I feel like all I have is this one thing, as miserable as it makes me. Yet, when I think of being free from it, letting it go and surrendering it, I feel as though I can do it, I can truly recover and boy do I want to. I am so tired of having to start over each day, yet I know that is all I can do. Do I wish I hadn't tailspun back into this mess? Of course. But I know berating myself does nothing but make me feel worse. 

All I can do is forgive myself, drawing upon the compassion and self-love I know I have within me. It is times like these when I need that grace the most, the willingness to forgive myself and let go of the judgment. So, here I am, pulling myself back up on my feet, giving myself any bit of grace and compassion I can muster, to let go of the harsh voice in my head telling me I have failed, that I am not worthy of this love. 

Yet, deep down I know I am. I know these feelings of worthlessness are nothing but lies, believable ones, but lies nonetheless. Vulnerable, exposed and imperfect to my inner critic's rigid standards, I stand with my head tall, dusting myself off, loving myself that much more for getting back up each time I slip, starting over and breathing into the moment, the opportunity to forgive myself and begin anew.