A lost self. Where is she?

A part of myself has been lost
Through these years of illness
Reading, writing, drawing...
These are the things that I loved to do, that were purely mine.
I miss a time
...when books consumed me,
...when I wrote because the words came gushing out,
...when I drew for the simple pleasure of it.

Where the words went, where she went I do not know.
Where to find her I do not know.

How to just be with myself I can no longer remember.
This is just another thing that illness has taken from me.
Except...
It's not just another thing.
It is my very essence of being.

Alone time during my illness was a guilty pleasure.
Although it hurt so, it was my time to hurt freely.
To be in pain, and to cause my self pain.
Me able to be purely me...
Except it wasn't purely me. It was illness.
And alone time is now tainted by it.

Always waiting in the shadows,
For the opportunity
Of alone time
To pounce and consume once more.

So purely me has been lost
Behind veils of illness and pain
I feel my being rotting without the essence of self...

How can I get her back without letting pain back in?
Without letting pain take control once more?
I don't know how to find her again.

An imperfect recovery...but I've come so far

So it's been a while. Things got on top of me somewhat and in between that uni has been manic.

This time last year I was in a hospital bed less than half a mile from where I am right now, having just had the worst night of my life. My mam, brother and two housemates were chatting to me about normal stuff, whilst parvolex dripped into my arm. It's surreal to think of it now; I actually did that. I actually attempted to take my life. I had been thinking about it for so long and told no-one. It was inevitable really, when no-one knew how was anything ever going to change?

It's hard not to look back on that and think about the what led me to that...and the fact that nothing has changed. I haven't lost weight, I haven't found anyone. I haven't overcome the bingeing and the cutting.

But I can't focus on those things, I need to acknowledge those things that have changed. I may not have stopped bingeing and cutting completely, but I have gained a lot of control over those behaviours. Even though that has slipped over the last few weeks, I am a long way from the depths of desperation I was in then. And I have had much more control in recent months than I have had in the last few years. That's an achievement worth celebrating.

I don't wake up every morning wondering if today will be the day that I give up and I don't put off going to bed simply because I don't want to wake up. I don't hoard food and plan when I can next binge. I don't have to find a chance to buy first aid things without anyone noticing. I don't cry myself to sleep.

Most of all I talk about how I feel. If I'm having a bad day, then I tell one of my housemates that I'm struggling today and if I need to talk about it then we do, if I need distracting then we do that. They can't always help me, I don't always feel better right away, but they help me to get through the shitty time until I am okay again. They stop me from slipping too much - missing too many lectures etc. 

So it's not perfect by any means, but a lot has improved and I'm still working on it. Ten months into a properly committed recovery really isn't so far and I am moving in the right direction.