A Decade For Living
As we ring in the new decade, I cannot help but reflect upon the past 10 years. This past decade has been undeniably transformative—I mean, how could it not be when it’s taken up over half my life? I have been molded like a lump of clay by both the highs and lows, the ups and downs, the storms and the beauty….As I look back, I remember the good times and the bad. I think of 2010, the year my brother was born, the piece of the puzzle we never even realized was missing from our family. I think of 2011, the year I started middle school and first encountered disordered eating. I think of 2012, the year I was officially diagnosed with anorexia nervosa and thus commenced the toughest battle I would ever have to face. I think of 2013, the year I was hospitalized for the first time. I think of 2014, the year I began high school and was hospitalized yet again. I think of 2015, and how I started the year in residential treatment, away from friends, family, and school yet again. I also think of it as the year I reached the strongest point in my recovery, realizing that my nomadic lifestyle of travelling from one treatment center to the next was not one I wanted in my future. I think of 2016, the year I started this blog and truly witnessed the immeasurable healing power of writing and words. I think of 2017, the year I became a National Ambassador for Project HEAL, able to advocate for a meaningful cause so near and dear to my heart. I think of 2018, the year I graduated high school and began my new journey at Duke. And I also think of the past year, one filled with hardship and loss, yet also hope. One in which I have seen my recovery progress start to dissipate, with my anorexia symptoms preventing me from pursuing amazing opportunities. Yet also one in which more than ever, I have gained a newfound sense of clarity in both my academic and personal life. This past year, I have created my own major that examines the intersection of health and storytelling and can now really begin coursework that delves deep into my passions. I have also realized that to make the difference that I want to in this world—to empower patients to share their stories as a means for catharsis and coping—I need to recover for real. I cannot continue to exist in a state of quasi recovery, in which I remain stuck in between two worlds—no longer can one foot be planted in a world filled with darkness and disorder, while the other attempts to remain grounded in a world of lightness and hope. To truly be happy and free to pursue my goals, I must unleash myself wholly from the suffocating chains of anorexia.
To begin to do this, I must reflect upon “why.” I have often been asked, both by myself and others, why I continue to hold on to my eating disorder when it clearly is not bringing any joy into my life. I often avoid answering this question because I don’t want to admit the truth that I don’t exactly know….in other contexts of my life, I am able to act “rationally.” I am able to reason that if one means of solving a problem is not leading to the right solution, I should probably go about the problem in a different way. So why can’t I see that with my eating disorder? I think part of the reason why is because it’s so much more complex, convoluted, and grey than just good vs bad, happy vs unhappy. Yes, my eating disorder has brought me inconceivable misery, isolating me from family, friends, and opportunities for self-growth. Yet, in a peculiar, twisted way, it has also provided me with a sense of perceived safety….it has served almost as a secluded section of the sea where I can anchor myself to avoid drifting into the horizon, into the vast expanse of the unknown. It has been a sinkhole, yes, one that has caused me to drift underground into a black abyss inhospitable to happiness. But in this state of being underground, I also do not have to focus on the real world above. My fear to begin experiencing life fully with all its concomitant uncertainties, in a way, is a glue keeping me intertwined with my eating disorder. For once I let go of my anchor or climb out of the sinkhole, I will be unhindered, able to face life head on….But what if I put myself out there and pursue different opportunities and am rejected? What if, once I gift myself with the freedom to explore any and all activities life has to offer, I just find out that I am an inadequate failure? Remaining trapped in the depths of my disorder has given me an excuse to just “try X later once I am healthy,” (whether X is joining a social group or certain club on campus, trying out a new sport/hobby, attempting to become more involved in the mental health advocacy world, etc.) so once I actually am healthy, I will have to give X a go, opening myself up to the possibility of failure and rejection.
Yet, I also know that even though remaining anchored may be easier than letting myself venture out into open waters, in life the more rewarding choice is often the one that is more difficult. One thing is for certain: If I continue to not give recovery my full effort and never even allow myself to pursue X to begin with, I definitely won’t succeed. As the great Michael Scott/Wayne Gretzsky once said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” So, in 2020, I aim to give myself the nourishment and love I need to heal so that I can begin to take those shots. For even if I fail, at least I tried. And I once told myself to do all I could to change the world for good, but if I continue to allow my disorder to isolate me from the real world, how can I possibly begin to carry out this feat? So, in this new decade, I will no longer let the fear of immersing myself fully into life hold me back, for the alternative is far scarier. Welcome, Simran, to the decade not for just existing halfheartedly, but for living fully, authentically, and fearlessly.