Some Days Are Hard!

When I decided to create this blog, I wanted it to be a source of strength and inspiration; where I could write about my recovery and touch the lives of others, who were struggling and looking for support.  I assumed in creating the blog and writing, I would summon more fortitude and have a renewed enthusiasm for my new found journey, which would come pouring out of my fingertips, as I tap, tap, tapped on my keyboard.  That was the plan, of the hopeless romantic in me, she thinks everything is easy, and lovely, and will turn out wonderful…

The Disorder on the other hand, is a destructive asshole!  Countless times, things have been going well in my life and The Disorder sweeps in, just to destroy it all; like an Evil Fairy Godmother or something.  Now The Disorder hasn’t done anything to destroy the blog, but it’s certainly been getting in the way, of my moving forward at the rate I would like.

A little over 2 weeks ago, I returned to work, after being off for almost a year, between the stress of that and the help of my friend The Disorder, I somehow contracted a skin infection, which moved into a blood infection, my past anxiety sprung up and I completely threw out my back, to the point I could hardly walk on several days.  All these things combined, it’s been tough trying to write and keep the damn disorder under control!

I’m very fortunate to have supportive, nonjudgemental people in my life, who are there for me to listen when I need to talk.  This however worries me, I feel like a broken record, not just a broken record, a negative broken record.  Not to mention, I hate saying, ’I feel fat!’  My logical mind knows that I’m not fat, but emotionally, disorder, dysmorphia, whichever term fits the moment, it feels fat, too fat to be happy, too fat to be attractive, too fat be in a relationship, too fat to be worth it…  I started recovery almost a year ago, the average time it takes to recover from an ED is 7 to 8 years, WTF!?!  My boyfriend is SO understanding and supportive, he doesn’t pretend to understand how it feels, he listens without judging and asks insightful questions, he never gets annoyed.  I just keep thinking, if this goes on for 7 more years, how the hell is he going to stand it, stand me?

Today, I just feel rotten!  The disorder hasn’t shut up all weekend, it’s been chirping about restriction.  No more night time snacks!  You need to lose weight!  Check out tips and tricks, for not getting hungry when you don’t eat!  You need more exercise, start getting up at 5am! Chirp, chirp, chirp!

I know today is probably extra disordered, so I feel extra shitty, but over the last year I’ve learned it’s better to share, to get things out, so I’m writing, while I’m sitting in it!  In my opinion, the biggest contributor to an ED is shame, and shame grows when it is kept in the dark, when it’s hidden away; but when shame is exposed, when it’s shared, when we learn we aren’t alone anymore, well then, there’s nothing left to feel ashamed of!

If you’re on the road to recovery and those demons sneak up on you, remember you aren’t alone.  Recovery sucks!  Recovery is hard!  Giving in would be easy, but recovery is worth fighting for!  You are not alone!