Sometimes, lost in the dramas and crises of life, it’s easy to forget our purpose. Often, we find ourselves bewildered, lost, unmoored – we lose sight of the meaning of our actions, then slowly, we lose our sense of selves, and then one day, we wake up and realise we have lost the meaning of life.
For almost two years now, the Ninja Turtle has found herself in a special kind of hell, when a series of unfortunate events triggered a downward spiral towards unfathomable depths of the horrors of eating disorders. Make no mistake, it has taken her a very long time to accept the situation, as long as this blog has been stagnant, for there is so much shame and stigma surrounding this poorly understood mental illness.
To openly admit that one is mad? mentally fractured? crazy? insane? a few fries short of a Happy Meal? is not easy. To accept the help one is offered, is sometimes much more difficult. To battle the voices inside one’s head, constantly roaring a litany of hateful jibes:
“You’ve spent years and years on education, only to find yourself jobless in a country where you’re afforded second class citizen treatment. You’re completely worthless.”
“You have failed in everything. You tried to build a career and you got royally screwed. You tried an ultramarathon and you quit halfway through. You’re nothing but a failure.”
“You want to show love to your father by visiting him, but you only end up vexing him until he’s threatened to disown you. Your partner’s parents are sick and tired of your present condition, and want you to return to Singapore so you are no longer visibly haunting them with your appearance. Your family and friends are sorely disappointed in you.”
“You always eat more than you should. You take up space. What have you done to merit your existence? You don’t deserve anything.”
It’s exhausting. It’s frightening. It’s the soundtrack that plays through the mind of someone so filled with self-loathing, so void of self-esteem that the eating disordered behaviours and physical appearance are merely a visible manifestation of the true horrors of being haunted.
No meaning. No purpose. No worth. No value. Nothing.
Until recently, things took a turn. After living in Lyon for slightly over a year, GodzillaPin and the Ninja Turtle have returned to Meuse, specifically GodzillaPin’s hometown. Having lost his job twice, more a reflection of the economic situation in Europe than his competence as an engineer, the duo have “come home”, where GodzillaPin will join the family business and at least, they will be closer to family and receive some support.
Grandma and Grandpa Lapin have aged incredibly in the year and half the duo have been away; whereas once Grandma Lapin was still able to cook up a feast of magret de canard with haricots verts from the garden, complete with red wine, cheese and tarte aux abricots for dessert, she is now burning her food on a daily basis as she forgets. Her eyesight is failing, and she is tired and cold all the time. Grandpa Lapin was recently hospitalised, and as old age dementia sets in, he is no longer able to do the gardening.
The task has fallen upon the Ninja Turtle to go over daily to ensure they have lunch prepared, and that they actually eat it (without an appetite, the elderly often forget to eat and even drink). Cooking their meals, washing up, cleaning the place for them, prying them for as many stories of their youth while she still has the chance… these are the little things that breathed new life into the Ninja Turtle’s existence.
Homecoming also means getting to borrow Mother Lapin’s kitchen, which is equipped with not one, but TWO magnificent ovens, where the Ninja Turtle has been busy baking up a storm. And heavens, what a sweet tooth the Lapin family has – a batch of 4 dozen cookies barely last two days before the Ninja Turtle finds herself baking once again. Mother Lapin has currently passed to mode “gluten-free” and “lactose-free”, which presents a challenge to the Ninja Turtle, but she’s happily experimenting with new ingredients and is truly enjoying herself.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel useless or unworthy anymore. Suddenly, Grandma Lapin was looking forward to the daily visits. Suddenly, people are demanding she do what she loves doing – baking. Suddenly, she’s found ways to maybe, just MAYBE, silent the critical demons in her head.
Grandma Lapin recently found a stray cat which birthed three kittens in the barn a few weeks ago, and one of the tasks the Ninja Turtle undertakes while visiting, is feeding the cats. Granted, she only pours milk and dishes out cat food, but that’s plenty enough for someone who is very allergic to cats. She’s contented enough simply observing them at play, and being reminded of what life is about. Fun.
Another project the Ninja Turtle has embarked upon, with the direction of GodzillaPin, is gardening. Last year when the duo visited Father Turtle in Vietnam, they were given several packets of seedlings for Asian vegetables, which are impossible to find in this corner of the earth. Well, GodzillaPin taught the Ninja Turtle how to till the soil, sow the seeds, cover them with earth, and then… (and this is the hardest part for the Ninja Turtle) simply wait.
But after a week or so of daily checking and holding her breath till her face has turned quite blue, the Ninja Turtle finally saw this:
Recovery from eating disorders is messy, nonlinear, exhaustingly long and never straightforward. The Ninja Turtle still struggles to find the words to talk about the disease, but as she slowly makes progress in her recovery and healing, perhaps she will finally find a way to show the world what’s really on the inside.
For now, she’s simply finding new ways to get through each day with a sense of purpose and meaning. And slowly, it seems, she’s finding it.