By Dr. Jo, Guest Contributor
the most beautiful thing just happened.
lying on my yoga mat
meditating on compassion,
fragrant pillow resting on my eyes
fuzzy blanket keeping me warm.
i offered myself compassion on the inhale,
my sister compassion
on the exhale.
she is my best friend
my ally
my validation.
yes, yes
it was that way.
they willfully denied your eating disorder
just as they did mine.
ignoring the violence
of vomit in buckets
residing like combat in your room
and the passive aggressivity of my
jutting bones.
then.
a shift in the air,
sour taste in my mouth,
tightening in my eardrum.
anorexia ascended the stairs.
filmy like a ghost,
yet i could
detect her footsteps,
soft taps
taptaptap
climbing steadily toward me.
my old nemesis,
an enemy,
a savior?
she had anesthetized me and
taken away all the colors.
unwittingly, my own method
of slow suicide.
she was no longer formless,
an amorphous part of my spirit,
no longer hiding.
it was time.
grace settled like soft morning dew,
forgiveness melted the bitterness,
the blame.
she had only been protecting
a broken, terrified twelve-year-old child
and did not know how to exit graciously
some thirty years later.
now.
i inhaled compassion for myself on the inhale,
exhaled compassion for anorexia
on the exhale.
my body and soul
where she lived
for so very long,
protecting and harming.
the juxtaposition
excruciatingly complex.
on the mat, my body became animated,
jerking off the floor,
arms and legs flapping like an angry bird,
tears falling of their own accord.
i neglected to resist
as is my usual pattern,
allowing the trauma
to discharge,
flames surrendering
a broken
building.
next.
utter complete calm.
i cradled myself compassionately,
no longer rejecting a part of myself
while simultaneously, desperately,
keeping her alive,
center stage.
i integrated anorexia
and allowed her to
rest
so that i could
enter my skin and
live authentically.
i see you ana,
i whispered.
she answered,
barely a peep
(how loud and ferocious she once was)
i’m so sorry,
i did not mean
to disappear you.
i am here,
i said,
with the confidence and certainty
of a warrior.
