I swing from optimism to panic. Some days I’m excited about recovery and others I’m petrified.
I am tense, waiting – like a bomb is about to go off. I know I have to put on weight but I dread it. I know this is a normal part of recovery; the ups and downs are inevitable.
I look back at all of the effort I put in, all the time I’ve wasted. No one will ever understand, and what does it matter? Year after year I tortured my body and my mind and I’ve got nothing to show for it. I’ve given the last 20 years of my life to an Eating Disorder and am no further ahead in life. Quite the opposite.
I’ve worked harder at this than almost anything in my life. There are no rewards to it. It robs you of a life, of time and of your health. And yet, I have been willing to give it 150%.
Why? Why does someone who is smart, capable, full of life, energetic, creative, outgoing, personable, determined and motivated give such an awful thing this much attention.
The problem is that there are so many other things in my life that deserve my time. My kids, husband, friends, family, job and life in general.
So, you spread yourself thin (literally) and get beaten down because you simply cannot do everything. You cannot be the perfect person, have the perfect life and the perfect eating disorder. There is only one solution to that. You have to give up something.
That doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.