29 October 2014

A social butterfly with broken wings

There's been a few times in the last couple of months where I've been in social situations, where in my early 20s I'd have been chatting, smiling, dancing and laughing, long into the wee hours. Yet now, at almost 30, I feel as insecure as I did when I was 16...and haven't been that Sarah for years.

It's almost like since anorexia took hold, since I froze from the inside out and damaged my social wings it's been so much harder to fly. 
I feel like I am learning all over again. 

I'm not talking about big crowds, but just general chilled out nights chatting or when I'm with a small group of family or friends. I'm sure this aspect of anorexia (and recovery) is harder to accept or adjust to as my illness took control at 26 not 16, so I know I can fly. 

Without getting too self analytical it's like my confidence has been zapped, like there's no point in saying much, because what I do say isn't interesting, funny or profound enough to be worth people listening. Even before I've said what I'm thinking, I've decided people don't want to hear it. 

It might be because for the last four years, if I'd said what was on my mind, I really would have been sectioned or something. I've been so used to filtering my thoughts and for so long, not actually having much to contribute, unless, of course, someone wanted to know the calorie content of a cocktail or meal.

Like anything in recovery, I'm sure it gets easier the more I do it. The more normal socialising becomes, the less it'll feel alien. The more times I contribute to conversations again with confidence, the more I'll remember I can join in. The fewer nights in I spend with Ana, the less attractive it'll be.

Some of it is trust and not believing people would want to spend time with me, some of it is body confidence, but also it's like I've been either ill or swimming in recovery for so long that I've forgotten how to have fun. Especially when it comes to men.

I've lost the ability to let go of the seriousness of situations and just flutter away without a care. 

If I didn't WANT to enjoy being around people this wouldn't be an issue, but the thing is, I miss it. I miss the Sarah who'd have the most random of conversations to the most random of people or the woman who'd look forward to nights out or ordering a glass of champagne, just because.

I miss that Sarah.

No comments :

Post a Comment