Sitting around waiting to go home like this must be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I know I have made the right decision – I would only get sicker here, and have more of a mess to sort out when I was finally forced to leave – but that doesn’t mean that I like it. It’s lovely and sunny today, and I caught a glimpse of what the campus will be like during the summer term. I started to think about everything I’ll be missing out on by leaving, and all the experiences I have denied myself by relapsing. Everything I’ve missed out on already, all the societies I could have had more energy to join in with, all the people I could have gotten to know better, the places I could have explored. It’s funny, I spent five months trying desperately to hide the fact that I had an eating disorder from the people I was living and studying with, because I was ashamed of having mental health problems and I thought they wouldn’t want to know me if they knew – but that just left me more lonely and unwell than ever before. Now I’ve come clean and told everyone that I’m leaving and why, people have been so supportive. One girl from my corridor sent me a really sweet message on facebook, asking if I wanted any help packing or to go out for coffee sometime this week. We started talking on MSN and it turns out that her best friend suffers from bulimia, so there was never any chance that she would have looked down on me for having problems.
I wonder when I am going to learn that I will only be able to form real relationships when I stop being ashamed of who I am and start being that person? In theory I would love so much to have friends I could go out shopping or have a girly night in with, and I miss being in a relationship too, but in practise everytime I meet someone new I dismiss the possibility that they might like me before we have said more than five words to eachother. Relationships take a lot of energy to build and maintain – I have used all of my energy up self destructing, and have none left for anyone else. It is a lot easier to be anorexic than it is to rejoin the world and the people who inhabit it after you have spent years struggling with an illness which cripples you socially and emotionally, but once I have started to beat this relapse and am feeling a bit better physically, I am going to try taking the harder path for a change.