My memories are mine - 1

Tuesday morning and I'm trying to put things into perspective, or at least, deal with what the past week has thrown at me. It's been playing on my mind and yesterday when I was talking to Diann, I only realized just how important it is, that I deal with it by writing about it, facing facts and accepting it.

On Friday I was going through photo's from when I was traveling in Oz. I haven't done this is a while. When I first started sorting them, months ago, I started at the beginning of my year. All was well and I was looking fine. In fact, the first 6 months I was looking fine. I was loosing weight, but I was eating and working hard and having great experiences. I was eating 3 meals a day, I was a happy chappy, drinking beer and did exercise too. I had the best of both worlds. And those photo's didn't make me feel awful. They made me feel happy because those were the best times ever.

But those were photo's of the first 6 or 7 months. Then it starts to get tricky. As each month passes I get skinnier and skinnier. I was still working, playing and partying hard and having the best time ever. But I wasn't eating 3 meals a day anymore. I was down to 2 meals and I was working harder than ever. It was the time I was in Darwin. That was the last chapter of my journey in Oz. It lasted for 2 or 3 months. It was a crazy time and up until now, I've looked back on them with joy. But on Friday when I looked at them, I wasn't feeling happy and I wasn't able to see how great it all was.

Looking at photo's can always bring you back to that time and place in your life and bring up the same emotions as you were feeling, when the pictures were taken. For months I would look and feel happy and blocked out the fact that I might not have been as happy as I let on. On the outside and to the world I was living the dream. But on the inside I wasn't at all. I thought I was and that's probably the saddest thing about it.

It's like I'm at the stage now where I have to face up to where this all started and how long it's been going on and what times of my life did it influence and what decisions did it effect. Months ago, I put the possibility that I wasn't happy during my last months in Oz, to the back of my mind because it was simply too much for me to have to deal with. Even yesterday, with Diann, it felt so awful to admit that Anna had already taken ahold of me, when I was "living my dream". I felt like a failure and that I had let myself and everyone around me down. Traveling has always been my "thing". It's been the only "thing" I want most from this life. I worked for months and months to get to Oz, and then when I finally do, I develop an eating disorder. I mean what kind of loser does that? What a waste of a year!!!

I sat there yesterday, in tears, saying that it was the best year of my life. But if it was, then why was I crying at the thoughts of it? Why can't I bare to look at those photo's? I know it's because I wasn't well and it's because I haven't accepted yet that Anna had kicked in during my travels and that, not until I accept it, Anna will overshadow all the great experiences I had during those last months in Oz.

Diann asked me what do I feel or see when I look at myself back then? Do I want to be Anna again? And to be honest, the awful I get when I see myself is far more an issue than the desire to be thin again. So, no, I don't think I do. But it's so hard because back then I thought I was looking great and I had the energy too. I was still able to be and do both.. be energized AND not eat properly. I loved that I was skinnier than average and I loved the fact that I was able to run around waitressing for 7 hours a day with sitting down or eating in between. It was great.

Right now, it doesn't feel so great to see it. When I look at the photo's today, all I can think of and see are bowls of yogurt, fruit and muesli. That's all. Diann said that it's like looking at someone who's in the midst of destroying themselves and their souls and seeing that that person hasn't got a clue what's going on. Looking at a photo from back then, could be compared to looking at someone who is being tortured by something from either the outside or from the inside.

Nobody likes to look at anybody who is being put through pain or who is being hurt or who is slowly trying to master self-destruction without that person even being aware of it. That's why I get a terrible feeling whenever I see myself back then. And even more so, because I'm not looking at anybody else, I'm looking at me. And even worse is that there's nobody who can tell this person who's is slowly trying to kill themselves, just what's going on. Nobody can get in and nobody can warn them. It's like each photo unravelling and witnessing the illness as it unfolds, at the turn of every page. There's nobody who can point the finger, there's nobody who can blame anybody for not telling this person to stop destroying themselves and killing their souls. There's nobody to get mad at, because it's the person themselves who is doing it, the person that seems so happy and that everyone gets along with and that everyone instantly likes. So nobody can get through at that moment and nobody can get mad either at them either for the torture and pain they're re causing themselves because it has to take it's course for this person to finally see what's been going on. However to see it, when it WASN'T too late and will still hope and help and when there was still life that was able to be revitalized.

Hang on a minute, for some more..