Life is a heartbeat: a series of ups and downs, fluctuations and faults.
Movements that mark us out as living beings.
A sign of life.
I had a sign of life. She stole it a while ago and kept it close, under constant surveillance. She always had her eye on it. I trusted her with it, I knew it was safe in her care.
Last week, Anonymous tried to stop my heart.
I should have been scared, but I felt nothing. Anonymous doesn’t share, it’s one of her unique qualities.
I wasn’t scared because I had become Anonymous. I became what she was: empty. I was her possession.
Then Ellie happened upon something alien: something called an emotion.
A feeling, a sign of life. Energy.
I hope I will look back on that moment and consider it a turning point in the war against Anorexia: the day I realised I had become the devil inside and had forgotten how to feel.
Anonymous groomed me: she knew Ellie and I had a relationship with unstable foundations. One could call her a coward for picking on someone smaller than herself, except she made me so happy and so strong.
She made me hunger for satisfaction, something to fill the emptiness.
Anorexia is an empty and lonely friend.
My independence, my friends and my rationality disappeared in her warm embrace.
She took away my worries and pain. I could hide in solitude because I could turn to her: she was in control. I was her responsibility.
Life is a heartbeat: a series of ups and downs.
“Little point in those. They make you weak. They will destroy you. I can make you stronger.”
“I can give you things they can’t”
I hadn’t realised Anonymous doesn’t share.
She tried to stop my heartbeat: to silence the pulsations and reduce me to a thin straight line.
I wake up in the morning and burst into tears after bouncing out of bed.
Tantrums over taking a bus or milk measurements melt into fits of giggles.
I scream into my pillow at night.
Smiles slide into shrieking contortions at the sight of a plate of food.
Sometimes I think I am behaving like the devil inside.
Ellie says I am behaving like a human: feeling, and living.
I have been cut off from rationality for so long: perhaps I just need to adapt to these fluctuations, these ups and downs.
I pass from Anonymous and Ellie, and back again.
Up and down, up and down.
A sign of life.
An revolutionary explosion of confusion, and panic, and fear; and emotions I no longer know how to identify.
My mood swings are frequent and frightening.
I’m terrified of being around people because I don’t know how to be around people.
I don’t know what temperament Ellie prefers: I never really understood who she was in the first place.
I was saved by fear: an emotion, a feeling. I didn’t know what to do with it.
I’m not stupid, I’m sick.
Everyone keeps telling me Anonymous is too.
Feelings force you to identify and choose a side.
Recovery forces you to come face to face with the devil inside; fear makes you come face to face with yourself.
Anonymous said she’d be waiting when I discover Ellie, and don’t like what I find. That I can always go back to her.
Up and down, back and forth.
Marks, movements: signs of life.
A heartbeat: and a grateful heart at that.