Fall and RISE

All the media hype surrounding Hurricane Sandy has sent millions of people into a tailspin.  Yesterday, I was watching some of the devastation on television and it got me thinking; why the heck am I forcing myself to watch this?  I would typically shield my eyes or at least preoccupy my mind with happier thoughts.  But, I watched with fear in my eyes and anguish in my heart. 

I can't even imagine being in that awful situation with flooded roads, destroyed homes, and people injured or perished.  It just goes to show that the forces of nature are all-encompassing and always pose threats to humanity.  This is the cycle of life, unfortunately.

These recent events got me thinking about my own personal struggle when I was in my 30's, and how I rose above the fray to become a better version of myself.  If there truly is a reason for everything, then even this damn hurricane and all the ones before it, had a divine purpose.

In December of 1999, I was living downtown with my father at the foot of Yonge Street, in a high-rise luxury condominium.  I had a dog named P.J. back then, and if he could have talked, he'd tell you some scary stories.  Namely, my six month struggle with bulimia.

I'll never forget how this damn eating disorder took hold of my brain and body.  Whenever I'd see other lanky girls walking the city streets, I'd shudder with fear because even though I was visually healthy and of normal weight, I was just like them.  Insecure, miserable, lacklustre. 

I kept a journal during that painful period.  I remember how I'd reward myself with food for a job well done at work, only to purge it all later.  I forced myself to vomit every single day for months.  When I try to picture myself back then, I can hardly believe that it even happened to me.  I recall that I was dating a fellow at the time, who wasn't doing much for my self-esteem either. 

In my journal, I'd always pose the question:  Why are you letting this happen?  You're stronger than this!  You are a Taurus!  Resilient, tough, courageous.  And yet every night, after eating copious amounts of ice cream, or cereal, or chocolate I'd run to the bathroom to purge.  It was a force stronger than I can describe.  I looked at my face in the mirror every night, and saw a girl I didn't recognize.  It was the most frightening time, and I constantly questioned myself when it would all end.  I knew the answer, but for six months it continued.  I didn't even tell my parents, until the tail-end of my struggle.

I won't get into more detail, but just know this:  I didn't get professional help for my eating disorder, even though my parents begged me to.  I vowed that I would nip it the bud myself, and sure enough, I did.  How it all happened, I still don't really remember.  All I knew was that as soon as all the 'toxic' variables were eliminated from my life, things naturally turned around for the better.

Since my bout with bulimia in late '99, I have never had a relapse.  The only facet about FALLING down that I can recall, is that I ROSE up with all the strength I could muster, all on my own.  I never begged for help, yet I suffered in silence.  This will be a story that I will share with my children (G-d willing) one day.  I want them to know, that it's never OK to carry anguish and that it's always OK to share pain. 

Think about every person you know and love, who has struggled and suffered through life and over time, has triumphed.  Pretty awesome, isn't it?  Humans are so fragile, yet so strong.  The moral is: We are all more capable than we make ourselves out to be.