I have a body.

I have a body.

What a silly, obvious thing to say, "I have a body."

For someone with an eating disorder or disordered eating mindset this can be a realization that is difficult to accept. For having a body means you have to look at it, look after it, nourish it, and take care of it. When you have urges and desires and needs they are to be met.

But when you are dealing with an ED mindset the drive to turn off those urges and desires and needs becomes painful and loud and often times unbearable. You long to escape the body you're trapped in, the body you hate to look at, look after, feed and nourish.

When the sad realization that you simply cannot discard of this body, this thing, this entrapment, every day can become a nightmare, or what I call a "silent hell."

This past week I had fallen back on restrictive ways. I had tasted the comfort of ED. The craziness, the physical pangs, I welcomed all of it with open arms. I was willing to throw away all the days that I struggled to maintain recovery, the mental well being, the physical health, all in the pursuit of "perfection." A perfection I never once obtained when in the darkest days of anorexia, a perfection I know intelligently does.not.exist.

Yet I keep striving for it.

At this juncture in my life the constant pull and back and forth is almost worse than the ED itself. I know the repercussions of restriction. I know all of these positive ways in which to keep my foot in the present and not give in. But that constant strive for perfection... it haunts me.

I used to say I felt like a fraud and that feeling has never felt more real to me than it does right now. I'm crippled by it. How can I possibly want to work in a field helping people to heal themselves when I can't even help myself?

Perfection, denied.

Each day, with each sunrise, I am forced to make a decision: Stay well or relapse. Most days I stand firm in my decision to move forward. Other days, well, it's a massive struggle. Some days I can accept that I am who I am, who I am becoming, and who I am meant to be in this world. Other days I'm simply not good enough. That feeling is almost as familiar as the body in which I reside.

Today, though, I chose recovery. Today I chose to stay present. Today I chose to recognize that I do not need to be anything more or other than who I am. Today perfection doesn't exist. Today I am content with just being me.

So I'm unemployed.

Being unemployed sucks. I don't understand how some people prefer to not work. I am going absolutely bananas being home everyday. And I'm not even really home the entire time. I go to the gym, go to the park, go to the library, and run errands. I keep myself busy and out of the house as much as possible. But I know once the task at hand is over I am going home. Going home with no direction beyond that. Going home without having had really any interpersonal interaction.

What does having all of this time to one's self do to the mind - my mind? It's a breeding ground for relapse.

Yes, I admit it. I have been struggling to maintain balance for the last week. Some (most?) people may associate being home with that fear of becoming lazy, eating emotionally and thereby gaining weight. I associate being home with having too much time to overthink and drive myself crazy with negative self talk. Self talk about how I got myself into this situation, how I am doing nothing with myself right now, what good am I, how am I going to succeed, and so on and so forth.

In order to keep that talk at bay I keep myself busy and I keep myself moving. Not so bad, right? Well, for me, this seems to be sending me back into the throes of overexercising and restrictive/disordered eating. Negating any efforts to reverse my HA and stay on track with recovery. I am at the gym nearly everyday and I am walking and/or running every single day. Some people would question what is so wrong with that. We should be active and healthy, right? Of course. But I also know that rest (boy, how I hate that dirty little word) is also necessary. The thought of rest and being still terrifies me. How will I stay outside of my head if I don't have much else to focus on?

I do have moments of clarity. I have moments where I stop and remind myself that I am unemployed by choice because I felt a stronger pull toward something more fulfilling. I needed to get out of a bad working environment. I am no longer stagnant. I am actively working to accomplish a huge goal. It may not be happening at a quick or even the most steady pace but it is happening. I have faith in myself and in the universe. I have faith that my goals will be met and I will be propelled into something soul satisfying.

It just takes time.

I give myself credit for being vocal and conscious of my behavior this week. Although I may have taken a few steps back all is not lost. I know this is part of the process of recovery.

Today is a brand new day.

(via)