Imagine

Last week my therapist asked me to try to imagine what my life would look like if I no longer had an eating disorder. What would be different? For awhile, my mind was stuck on a different question. What would my life look like if I had never been raped? I probably wouldn't have an eating disorder. I wouldn't be me. Am I afraid of losing me...or finding me? I don't know what I want my life to look like. Right now, I'm just trying to get through the pain. I want to get through a week without the empty, blank spaces of time that steal the present. I want to cry, and be angry, and cry some more. I want to know that what happened to me mattered. That I matter. Otherwise, what was the purpose of lifting the silence?