In a horrible echo of how things used to be, I have spent the afternoon trawling the shops, only to return home, empty handed, because what I am looking for can’t be found on a supermarket shelf.
I am finding Christmas quite hard.
In the long unstructured gaps, when people are together or spending time with their other halves, the years that I spent rejecting companionship have come full circle; and, whilst I’m slowly getting back in touch with the world, the gaping hole that the eating disorder has left behind has been highlighted by the holiday season.
And, because I’m not very good at relaxing (which is what I really need to be doing); and, as I’m feeling the pain of being left out so incredibly bitterly, then I have succumbed to the post Christmas sales (because I don’t want to miss out); and, I have given into the air of urgency (because it chimes with my desperation); and, I have returned, empty-handed, because the experience is as hollow as I am feeling and any shop brought satisfaction would only be an echo of what I’m really looking for –
So, I have taken myself home, and I am attempting to salvage the situation; because treading the aisles again is not a place I want to re-visit, and has provoked a lot of feelings that I’d rather not have.
And, like a cat tending her wounds, I am giving myself a little TLC, in the hope that next year, there’ll be someone else sitting next to me with a warm blanket and a tissue if it’s still this hard.
And, tomorrow, I will pick myself up and remind myself of how far I’ve come already, and that I have got this far with people – and not purchases; and, I will not be trawling the shops again, only to return empty-handed -
Because you can’t buy what I’m looking for –
And any shop brought satisfaction would just be an echo.