Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

This post originally appeared on the NEDA blog.

When I was in the midst of my eating disorder I was terrified of the dark. I did anything I could to escape from darkness--those uncomfortable feelings of anxiety, deep depression and loneliness. I know what it feels like to live in darkness and feel the hopelessness that comes with feeling lost.

The darkness was unbearable. I searched for anything to help me feel better, anything that would help me break out of the emotional state I felt. So I turned to my eating disorder, using behaviors I thought would help me feel better. My eating disorder represented bursts of light, like matches that could--for a brief moment--help ease my fears. But the behaviors did not ease the pain for long. Like matches, the relief I felt from the behaviors quickly flamed out, leaving me again in an emotional darkness.

For a while, I kept lighting matches that served as “quick fixes,” but I was always left afraid. I couldn’t accept the circumstances--I couldn’t accept these emotions, couldn’t let myself feel.

After a while, I stopped believing I could illuminate this darkness. I thought I would never know happiness, joy or freedom from my illness. I lost all hope.

What it took me more than a year to realize--and I still have to remind myself daily--is that I don’t need to be afraid of the dark. My therapist always reminds me that our emotions are in flux and that what I feel right now will not last forever. At first, I rejected this idea: “How could she know that? She wasn’t living in my head.” But, as I frequently discover, she was right.

Our emotions constantly change, it’s part of being human. But the more we try and shut down, block out or numb the emotions we don’t like to feel, the less we feel at all. We can’t pick and choose what we want to feel; joy comes with sadness, hope with hurt and perseverance from pain.

I saw this with my eating disorder behaviors. The more I numbed from anxiety, depression and loneliness, the less I felt real joy, hope and strength. When I moved toward recovery, I began to see that when I could accept the darkness I felt, I began to believe that there was a light. The more I fumbled around with matches and quick fixes to brighten the darkness, the scarier and more helpless I felt. Instead, I remember to trust that I know the way out--that I know that I will not be in darkness forever. We can walk through the darkness and not be afraid. When I find myself in those feelings today, I remind myself to trust myself--to trust that I know that I am okay I maintain hope that light will soon come shining through.