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© 2018-2020 by Kajsa Artifex

If I could turn back time

I had a long talk with my mom on the phone today. My weight-loss has triggered some mental health issues for me that frightens me. I've talked about it before... The body I'm using isn't mine. I can't remember a time when I felt like it was. My soul and the body have grown apart.


When I was little, so long ago I can't even remember it, I separated the two so I could survive in the cruel world. Over time, during the years that followed, the body and my soul grew and changed... but since they weren't connected, they developed into two different beings. I don't know what it's like to feel like a complete person. To feel like the body you're using is in fact your own. Not only that, but the soul is a part of it. That the soul isn't a side-thing. They are one.


Growing up feeling like that was confusing enough. When my eating disorders and BDD came in to my life, things got even worse. When things were at their darkest, I wanted to pour acid on my face, so I would be as grotesque and ugly as I saw in the mirror. The same thing goes for the body I inhabit.

A part of me liked being fat. That part of me is also terrified of losing weight. Because despite my depression, anxiety and hate over the fat, I felt safe in it. From the time when I was a child, people have constantly picked on the body, calling me fat, saying and doing awful things to humiliate the body. That in addition with the BDD and growing up with both eating disorders and the feeling of the body not being mine, is very hard to deal with. I don't understand it fully, and yet, I'm the one having the issues. It's the same with my age.


I've always felt like my soul is a lot older than the body I have. But, it isn't like I'm feeling old because I'm tired, exhausted, ect. Because, when I was 16, my anxiety and depression was so bad, that my brain got the signal that the body was dying. My entire being was prepared to die, like in cancer or something. And yet, here I am 11 years later. It's like I have literally resurrected from the dead.

I have tried seeking help everywhere. But even people that have worked in the field for YEARS find this very complicated and don't know how to help me.


That's why a part of me loved being at my biggest. Because then at least one thing I saw was the truth. I doubt my brain in so many aspects, that knowing I was as fat as I felt, gave me some comfort. I had control. I could trust that my eyes told the truth. Now I'm losing weight, but can only see it on the scale and how my clothes fit, but not in the mirror. I feel like I'm losing my balance while hanging over an abyss. After I have reached my goal and this part of my life is over, I don't know who I am. Being the fat girl, the girl with problems, is something I have grown up with. I don't know anything else. I know what I'm leaving behind, and it's what I want for so many reasons. But what then? What awaits on the other side?


Mom told me that adjusting ones reality to match other peoples perception, follow the typical rules of society, is a form of pier-pressure. But it never was for me. I wanted to have the "normal" life with education, rebellious teen-years, boyfriend, job, driver's license, ect. But that was because I never felt like I was a human. I always felt so alone and like an Alien when I was with others. That was the only reason I wanted to fit in. If I followed the rules, they wouldn't call me weird. They wouldn't stay away from me because of it.


I haven't been able to follow the rules. I barely finished elementary school, since I was on sick leave the last year. In the five long years I was trying to study after that, I managed to scrape together four grades. I have never had a boyfriend, I doubt I will ever take a driver's license, I can't get a "normal" job because of my lack of education, ect. Then my mom asked me if I still wanted to be one of those people that lives ordinary lives by following these rules?


A few years ago, my answer would have been yes. But I've been thinking about it and I realize that my feeling of being an Alien has nothing to do with me not being able to follow certain rules. It comes from within. Why should I be like everyone else? If I blend in, I would lose myself in the crowd, and I've worked way too hard to start loving myself to let that disappear. All the fighting would have been in vain if I do. My life so far hasn't been ordinary. I won't explain in what ways, that would take forever. But since my life hasn't been ordinary up until now, and I have come to realize that I'm not so ordinary myself, perhaps I'm not meant to follow the rules? Maybe I'm meant for an extraordinary life with my creativity and books? Because that's what I want to do. I want to write and succeed with being an author. And since my life has been so unique, I can use the knowledge I've gotten over the years to my advantage in my writing.


We all have just one life. I've been given a second chance and I'm not going to waste it trying to fit in by following rules I would be miserable with. Living a life like "normal" people would trap me. I've always wanted to feel free, because my diagnoses and the body I'm in often gives me feelings of claustrophobia. I have to find peace in any way I can and that is through writing.


My life until now has been complex. My road to this point has been difficult to understand and deal with. But these things have made me not only an extraordinary person, but also someone that has some amazing knowledge to share and a story to tell. I also have a way to channel my voice and I'm going to use it to my full advantage.


I was meant to dedicate my life to be a storyteller.

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