Does anyone who actually knows me even read this? Please enlighten me.
I read my entire blog the other day. I wanted to curl up into nothing and cry, so instead I went for a run. I didn't recognize a single word of it that would have come from me. None of the earlier posts that is.
She sounded hopeful... excited about the future. That girl could breathe... I've forgotten completely how to do that. She wanted recovery so bad, she was on the right track. She sounded... almost... well, happy even. I can pinpoint the exact post, without even giving it a second thought or checking dates, that I stopped going to treatment. My writings went from hopeful to destructive in 2.5 seconds in bloggers time. Lets face it, recovery hasn't really been on my radar for quite some time. I'd love to think that it has but I would be lying to myself, and you. I feel slightly blindsided by my own doing, and now for the last few days between workouts and working, I've been contemplating how I let myself down so horribly. I'm well aware that eating disorders are not about the body but I can't help but want to disappear more and more every day. To fade into nothing, to see and feel my bones. The difference between then and now is that I was going to group every week. I had people to relate to, who knew what I was going through. While once a week is nothing substantial, it was certainly better than nothing and got me thinking about recovery every day. I was waitlisted for months for inpatient treatment and when it came down to it, three separate times, I refused it and they had no choice but to close my file. I didn't, and still don't want to live in a hospital, that much I know. I also know though, that there are other treatment options out there for me that I am blatantly ignoring. It's not about fattening me up and feeding me. It's about teaching me how to deal with everything that has happened in my life in a healthy and positive way.
I'm too stubborn for my own good in believing I can make all this go away myself. Its stupidity really. I had myself convinced I dealt with everything I needed to, so why am I still doing this. The more I don't want to think about life the deeper I fall into it. The eating disorder occupies my mind into thinking about food, and being skinny all day long that I quite literally have zero brain space to think of anything else remotely constructive. I want to cry so bad but refuse to show any kind of weakness within myself even in the privacy of my own home. I'm trying to get down to a number low enough that I will allow myself to go back to group. I've made up my mind that I'm not skinny enough yet to have a big enough problem, that no one will take me seriously because no one did when I weighed less than I do now. Up until a couple weeks ago I was sure I was on somewhat of a better path than I have been. Then I bailed out on one of the very few friends I have because I had to go work out. I realized at that moment I'm in it. I can't get out of it. I have no idea how. It's not easy, recovery isn't easy. Its so fucking hard you wouldn't believe. I'd bet money it's harder than getting your Masters, a PhD or passing the bar. Seriously, I'm not kidding, its really really fucking mind numbingly hard. So once again, I know what I should do, but am I going to make that choice or prove once again my weakness against my very own self.
Fuck.
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