Somewhere in between graduating college in Biology and attempting to have a life. This is my story of my running, working, relationships, school, friends and support. My ups, downs, complete failures, and undenying truths along the way. Oh, did I mention I am recovering from an eating disorder in the midst of it all? Welcome to life in recovery…. it gets a little bumpy.
It is amazing how much can change. I vaguely remember this, mainly because there were many, many, oh so many, mornings that I woke up and it took everything in me not to pack up before breakfast. Many mornings I laid in bed and thought “That’s it, my mind is made up, I’m leaving today. I can’t handle it here.” At one point I was the youngest in the house, I questioned if I was too young to recover, if I was even sick. I made excuses after excuses of why I was fine.
Even my treatment team today will tell you how I went into residential thinking I didn’t even have a problem. Makes recovery difficult when you don’t think you have anything to recover from.
I’m not sure what got into me, I feel awful. I want to cry but I can’t, I need to run but I can’t, I want to go home, but that really isn’t an option either. I don’t want to get fatter, I don’t want to “mindfully eat”.
Everyone is more concerned than me. I want to call it quits, go home, go run, but quitting isn’t like me.
I want to nap.
What if recovery just isn’t for me?
Why is it so much easier to slowly kill myself and starve than to actually feed and take care of myself?
How did I get to this point?
Eating once a week, running twice a day, totally fine, to eating six times a day and crying over a bagel and turkey.
I could leave ya know. Pack up my stuff, ask for my keys, walk away and go home. Not be forced to have a starch, fat, protein, or an Ensure if I refuse. Not hear, “Walk.”, “No running.” And “Second table” anymore. Leave and not be the reason we need bathroom buddies anymore.
Feel like a free, real person again. Not have to sing while I pee, be able to go down an aisle without being watched or reprimanded for going to far.
I could do it, just pack up and leave.
Return to all the people who believed in me, support me and called me “brave”, just to have to admit to them I am chicken shit and pansied out.
Continue stuck in this rut of spitting up stomach acid, running on empty, being weak and tired—
I’m not sure what has gotten into me lately. I’m really blah and in a slump.
This is so freaking hard.
Earlier I was so bored I swept outside, front porch, back porch, even part of the yard.
Yeah, I was sweeping rocks and leaves.
I guess, originally, I came to placate and shut everyone up. Now though, I’m at least partly able to see how bad this is. I don’t want to go home and continue this waiting game of being “sick enough”, but here it is so hard.
I try to end these past journal entries with a where I am now. Looking back, I had only been at Tapestry for about two weeks. I had no idea what was in store for me. I still had a very long ways to go. I wouldn’t be allowed to run for about a month still, I ended up having to tally how many times I was going up and down the stairs, etc.
Today, I am trying to deliberately eat. There is a part of me that still thinks it is completely acceptable to skip meals, mainly because I get busy. So, I am trying to focus on deliberately eating and not making it optional.
I will say this, it got more difficult before it got easier, but today it is easier. Eating is not an obnoxious chore that I avoid at all costs. There are even some foods I look forward to eating and even enjoy to eat! (Yes, I ordered two large boxes of gingerbread Clif bars… they are my favorite flavor!!)
Anyways, it gets easier. Do the next right thing!!