Losing it

The only thing I could think about today was that I need to lose weight. I've been flirting with disaster, filling my head with calorie contents and guessing what my BMI might be now. I haven't acted this way in years. I keep telling myself that I am overweight. That I'm not good enough. That I'm never going to be good enough unless I get off my ass and go to the gym.

Ugh. Sound familiar?

Deep in my heart I know that none of these things are true, and I'm not sure why I'm being assaulted with all of these negative thoughts right now after all of this valuable time spent advocating, living, breathing, and rejoicing in recovery. I know that recovery is the right choice. I know that recovery is the only choice. So why am I letting my eating disorder get through to me? For so long, there was a brick wall that I had built between the two of us. Sometimes she'd try to climb over. Sometimes I'd hear her clawing at the other side. But I always ignored her. Now the wall is gone. I'm staring at a pile of fallen bricks and a ghost from my past dying to convince me she knows best. How did this happen?

I didn't even want to write about this because I didn't know if anyone would understand. I don't want to sound phony. I know that there is life after anorexia. And I know that there is life only after anorexia. I know that. I believe that! Anorexia, however, is trying to tell me otherwise.

I think the reason I've been so vulnerable lately is because I've been sick with this dizziness and all of these ear and upper respiratory issues. That illness has lasted for four months and has severely impaired my quality of life. I can't do the things I used to do. I can't be the person I have come to be. So naturally, I've fallen into a bit of a depression. And naturally, my eating disorder sees this as an opportunity to pounce.

I guess this proves that recovery is a long and continuous process. It's not easy. That's why getting rid of an eating disorder is so difficult--because even years after the onset of recovery, symptoms and behaviors indicative of anorexia often resurface. The important thing is that I know that-- that I am ready to handle that. I learned to ignore my eating disorder once and I can do it again.

Recovery is hard but being sick is harder.

Think about it. It's true. I don't want to be the person I was when I was anorexic. I like the person I have become in the years after, and I intend to stay that person.

I won't be discouraged. There is no room in my life for relapse.