In the middle of the night, I heard the muffled sounds of my family getting ready and at 3 am, I heard the door slam with a note of finality.
Jolene is leaving us again. She is strong, but anorexia was stronger this time. My parents are boarding another plane to take her back to the States and do another batch of paperwork and prayers hoping for government funding. And then leave her there again for as long as it takes.
I watched her pack her bags with the stoic silence that decended on her the moment she found she was returning to Avalon. What do you say to a person that would rather die than go back to a treatment centre for a disease she believes she will never beat? How can I reach her, show her I love her despretely?
The answer on her last night home, like always, was animals.
That picture was taken a while ago, but it sums up Jolene. I recently told her that I see a beautiful young woman emerging from her small body. One with passion, purpose, interests and abilities.
She told me she hopes she can use them and she is not crippled by anorexia forever.
I don’t often talk about her or anorexia, partly for privacy and mostly because it has just been a normalicy for almost a decade. But every once in a while, it will peek over the safe box of normal feelings that you build and remind you how much it does hurt to see a beloved family member suffer every single day of her life. And how angry you are at the disorder for robbing her of everything she deserves.
I am not asking for sympathy, but I am asking for prayers. I am not praying for anorexia to leave immediately, I am just praying for a miricle.
Thank you, my friends.