I'M SORRY
- Luka
- Apr 2
- 6 min read
'I'M SORRY' is a compilation of those I am sorry to for the many years that anorexia has bled into their lives, throughout the time it's been bleeding into mine. I will always know with my whole heart, mind, body and soul that anorexia wrecks the vessel that is my body. But what I will also always know is that as it does so, it pulls the heartstrings of those who utterly love me. This blog post is an apology to everyone who I feel has truly experienced, understood and witnessed its destruction play out.
I don't believe that any apology is a competition. I believe an apology is always a powerful thing. Not always, but it can take a big person to apologise, to recognise their flaw in a world where we're taught to be perfect. Each apology is situational and each apology is individual. However, if I had to choose someone that I was most sorry to, I think it would be my dog. You might be wondering why this is, for not many people feel that bad about things they've done towards their dog such as accidentally standing on their tail or taking that last bite of Nonna's chicken. But my apology towards my dog isn't about one moment, nor is it about an accumulation of moments. It's the same big thing that's manifested its way in many different situations.
I'm sorry Archie for all the times I chose to not only disrespect myself enough to not prioritise my physical and mental safety, but that I allowed my choices to harm you physically and mentally.
My dog couldn't always express in words what he was and wasn't comfortable with and I manipulated that absence of communication. If there weren't words to say 'I don't want to walk with you if you haven't eaten yet.' or 'I don't want you to be in charge of taking care of me because you aren't taking care of yourself.' then I chose to believe those weren't the words he wanted to say. Or worse, I believed those were the words he wanted to say but because he didn't say them, I chose not to hear his voiceless words, thoughts, feelings and beliefs. I disrespected him. I disappointed him. I hurt him. I'm too ashamed to go into the details of the things I have to apologise for. But, Dolls, I'll leave it up to your imagination to picture me, a girl who chose not to eat or receive psychological support and who had to keep Archie, a dog safe; taking him driving in a car, going on strenuous walks or taking him to sleep at night when he'd be licking wounds he shouldn't have known he needed to lick. I'm sorry Archie that I ever made you feel like you didn't deserve a sister who would do anything to keep you safe because you do and you did. It was me who didn't deserve to love someone as perfect, forgiving, understanding and caring as you. For I know if you had the words, you would say 'I forgive you' because that's the kind of soul you always and will forevermore be.
I'm sorry to my Mum for the little girl you watched fade before your eyes as my body wasted away and the light inside me died. I'm sorry to both of us for becoming a girl we never thought I'd be: lost, fearful, uncourageous, and most importantly, unkind- not to others but to myself. I'm sorry I became somebody neither of us knows how to rationalise with, how to converse with, how to exist with. I'm sorry that we didn't just lose the parts we knew, but that we lost the parts we thought we might know. I'm sorry that I became somebody you didn't know how to hug, laugh with or provide for, because it broke me every day as I felt myself becoming somebody you knew less and less.
I'm sorry that anorexia's war between it and I became a war between you and me.
I'm sorry because I know our war played on your mind and heart. I'm sorry because I know you wanted more. I'm sorrybecause you deserved more: An easy, gentle, warm love, not one where I learnt too easily, too commonly, how to scream at you so you would give up your efforts to coax me towards food in all of your melancholic heartbreak and overwhelming sense of perplexion. I'm sorry for the trauma you now suffer from years of anorexia's abuse towards you:
It's instilled the belief in you that you've failed as a mother.
It's instilled the belief in you that you are helpless in your ability to love and support me.
It's instilled the belief in you that even if you do try, your efforts will prove worthless.
But most of all I'm sorry that with every glimpse of hope you feel, there is always the part of you that will prepare for what's always led before... That I will die before you or remain sicker than you ever could've imagined for your little girl. Amidst everything you believe, intertwined with every letter of my apology, know the one undeniable truth that has never and will never change, is that no matter what anorexia tells you, I have and will always completely, utterly and eternally love, love, love you.
I'm sorry to myself. I think when most people with anorexia apologise to themselves, it's to their younger self, the self that had to grow up too quickly from the ugly and devilish demands of an eating disorder voice. Although I feel a strong desire to apologise to my younger self, I feel an equal responsibility to apologise to my present self, the self that I hurt every time anorexia wins a confrontation or adheres to a brutal demand. I'm sorry to the girl who I make endure hunger pains, who I call 'unworthy', who I ignore and allow to be trumped by an unforgiving bully. I'm sorry about the hair on your head that's brittle and frail, the hair that you wish was long and luscious like all the girls you know. I'm sorry that you don't feel good enough, still, after all of these years. I'm sorry that I allow you to rest in utter misery, desperate for an ounce of joy towards yourself to be given. I'm sorry that I can't tell you that this present moment won't last.
I'm sorry to my Dad for every time I told you I was okay but I wasn't because I know that the one thing you cared most about in this world was that I was. I'm sorry for all the times you couldn't fix me and you so desperately wanted to. I'm sorry for all of the times I tainted your happiness with the devastation of the reality of my illness; watching me rot away in public hospitals, crying in your arms in psych wards and pleading you to let me be put out of my misery. I'm sorry for all the times I tried to be let out of this world and leave you by yourself. I'm sorry for the magnitude that this apology has become, that there are so many things about our situation that have bruised your big, bright, red, beating heart, the one that fills up every dark room with hues and rays of golden sunlight. You are an angel. You are my angel. I'm sorry that the light this world showed you is the same one that, now, you see go through me. I'm sorry for every bite you had to see the big black bear take out of me. I can't imagine what watching that looked like because I know the horrific extent to which it felt like.
I'm sorry to my friends - you know who you are, the ones who've either visited me in hospital or kept their phone on standby for the weeks I've been inpatient. I'm sorry that you had to witness me lose my spark. I'm sorry that you had to prepare to lose me. I'm sorry that you had to look at me. I'm sorry for all the times you were at a loss, not knowing how to help me after having supported me through doing the same thing to myself time and time and time again. You deserved the person you once knew (if you knew me before anorexia) and you deserved the person you believed I could or would be (if you met me during anorexia). I'm sorry I let your hopes die. I know you think that because I still have anorexia, none of your efforts worked but you're so wrong. You helped me with that little 'You got this' text. You helped me when you told me 'I love you'. You helped me when you sent me flowers. With every one of those things, you turned a girl who hated herself into a girl who believed she was capable of being loved. I love you. I see you. I need you. I adore you.
'I'M SORRY' Is to recognise the ricochet effect of anorexia, all of the people it injures, all the hearts it tears, all the wonders it loses. 'I'M SORRY' is to show sufferers that they aren't the only ones letting down the people who matter to them. Thank you, Dolls, for seeing my apology before your eyes, and allowing me to be vulnerable with all of the people who've done everything for me. Thank you to everyone this post is dedicated to, granting me the opportunity to share my profound gratitude to you for continuing to show up for me despite the difficulty and messiness of it all.
Comments