Rejuvenate: look or feel younger, fresher or more lively
…this is harder than expected.
700AM: awake too early after a night of drinking
730AM: obsess about all the calories and food I ate that I “did not deserve”
830AM: keep obsessing
930AM: time to go to the gym in an attempt to make her stop talking
I see the error in my thinking. I feel the sadness that a fun night with friends brings me. I know the pain “enjoying” a day causes me; the shame, the guilt, the sorrow, the anger, the regret…
And, I am considered “recovered” – ha
If you are like me, you get it. Recovery fucking sucks. Things that should be fun and beautiful become so stressful.
Writing this makes me think about my birthday. I planned a trip with my best friend, had an incredible time, enjoyed myself, did not workout and did not deprive myself.
It was a perfect time spent with one of my favorite people in the world.
I wish the week before this trip was not hell.
I spent every minute of every day thinking, obsessing, counting – I was so scared “vacation” would “ruin” all my hard work – that it would make me “fat” – that I would be the “failure” I always knew I was.
The amount of energy wasted anticipating something that should have only made me feel positive…why….
The worst part is – I understand that scales fluctuate and are not a real depiction of body composition. I know that eating bad once in a while (even weekly) does not matter. I know I will live through another dinner out. I know if I want all the things I do in life I have to stop being afraid to live, to go out, to travel, to spend nights out with friends, etc.. I do not want to avoid going on dates anymore because “drinking and eating out has too many calories.”
This is me, recovered.
I am positive the notion: once an anorexic always an anorexic is true. When I say that, I do not mean we cannot eat and live normal lives. I know we can recover, I am living proof. What I mean is…that shame, underlying pain, fear….that does not just go away once we learn to “manage” eating. I am not sure it will ever fully go away.
I got “sick” at 12. I started trying to get better at 19.
Six years later and every fucking day is still a fucking fight. But, it gets easier – every time I resist the impulses, the desire to self-harm…every day I focus – I set intentions.
I promise myself, I will eat, I will laugh I will forgive myself. It is not too late.
I wasted so many years, months, weeks, days…hours…allowing HER to control my life.
I mean, here I am, founding an organization to fuck this disease up....and still fighting all the self-hate I feel for “having fun and eating too much with friends.”
Writing this makes me feel pathetic and exposed.
But, I know recognizing the error in my thinking, admitting it and at least trying to change it brings me another step closer to change.
I may have a bit to go, but I see the direction I am headed…I feel my progress every single day...
And, yes it makes me feel so fucking rejuvenated.
Remember, to rejuvenate means to look or feel younger, fresher or more lively.
Well, taking on recovery the last 6 years has been just that. With every small victory I feel younger, fresher, more lively….
I am restoring myself.
I am freeing myself.
I am rejuvenation.