I try and remind myself of bad experiences I have had during my Eating Disorder. It solidifies why recovery is necessary and most importantly – worth it.
I was in the washroom. For a change. The kids continued to knock at the door asking when I would be done. I wanted to be done that minute, but I was physically unable to move. I told them a few more minutes. But I knew it would be longer.
My youngest son loves writing notes and slipping them under the door. It would typically say I Love Mom or I Love Dad.
Today’s note read:
I love Mom. Feel better and come out to play with me.
I was so angry with myself. All he wanted was me. To play with him.
I forced myself out of the washroom and went to his room. I lay on the bed in agony but didn’t let him know that. So we played Lego. Because he deserved that.
And you know what? So did I!