This is a story of inner turmoil. How I felt before entering recovery. How I felt during the beginning of recovery. How I feel now that I’m a few years into this journey.
I’m so tired of being crazy. I'm so tired of being out of control. I'm so tired of not being able to say how I feel out loud because I sound insane. I don't want to. I'm tired of being controlled by these things. I so tired of taking handfuls of depression pills in hope that they'll make me better. I'm so tired of destroying my body to satisfy my mind. I'm so tired of looking in the mirror and being so disgusted by what I see that I look away. I'm so tired of avoiding mirrors while I'm naked. I'm tired of thinking of thinking oh what the hell why does it matter if I live anyway. I'm so tired of needing to please other people to convince myself that I deserve to keep breathing. I'm tired of not being able to handle the feeling of full. I'm tired of every person I walk pass looking at me like I'm disgusting. I'm tired of being a disappointment. I'm tired of wanting to eat and drink myself past full just so I can throw it back up. I'm tired of that being the only way to find comfort. I'm tired of my brain telling me that's what I deserve. I'm tired of hating myself. I'm tired of trying to convince myself I deserve to live. I'm tired of wanting to die. I'm tired of day dreaming of when it's all going to end. I'm tired of the people that love me worrying. I'm tired of knowing the risks I take and the damage I'm doing to my body and not being able to stop. But what's worse is that when I do all of this and it doesn't work.
At this time I was spinning out. Free falling. I felt nothing but self hatred. I was deep in my eating disorder that was rooted in not being enough. I was desperate to shrink myself as much as possible to take up as little space of the world around me. I knew that my eating disorder was destroying my body and that all the purging was hurting my teeth, throat, stomach, but it would not let me stop. I had absolutely no control and could not stop.
I hate this. I just keeping getting bigger and bigger like a ballon. I don’t know why or what causing it’s but I know it’s happening. I can feel myself getting heavier slowly by steady. I feel disgusting and I just want it to stop so bad. I don’t know why I keep getting bigger!!! I don’t know if it’s numbers and at this point whatever fuck the scale but I am physically getting larger and larger. I don’t know why, I feel like my weight should be stable. Why do I keep getting fatter!!! I don’t know if it’s what I’m eating now or a month ago or 2 weeks ago. What’s causing this? I am on a strict meal plan and it was suppose to make my weight stabilize, but this is NOT stable. ahhhhh SAVE ME. I am desperate to go back to my eating disorder, I know it was killing me. But, this fatness makes me want to die so much more.
My brain screams:
I hate my body. I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body I hate my body
I fight to reframe it:
I have my body I have my body I have my body I have my body I have my body I have my body I have my body I have my body
I don’t want to get any bigger. I don’t even understand why I keep getting bigger. It’s not like I’m overeating.. so why do I keep getting fatter. Ughhhhhh. I’m freaking out. And I hate this. I feel helpless. I feel gross and nasty and fat and repulsive and no matter what I can’t shake the feeling. I try to accept it or at least stop hating my body. If it would just pick a size I could get use to that. But because it keeps GETTING BIGGER it gets harder and harder to accept. Ugh I just feel like a whale now. Like a ballon. I think this is the biggest I’ve ever been. And I hate it. I hate it so so much. I just want it to stop. I want to get rid of this shit. But the only way to get through it is to keep doing what I’m doing I guess... and that seems helpless.
This was earlier on in my recovery. I had committed to not using ED behaviors and fighting for a life where I was free from food. Free from the screaming voices in my head, free from counting calories obsessively and not stopping until it was perfectly calculated to satisfy my ED. There had to be something better. The doctors and therapist and dietitians promised me that there was something more, that there was a life without the ED making every decision. I didn’t believe them there was no way, but I committed to blindly following because they had being doing this for years- they had to know something. I hated it. It was so so hard. To eat the food even when every single fiber of my being was screaming for me to stop. To go the appointments and feel all the hard stuff that my eating disorder had been surpassing over the years.
Now that I am further into my recovery I see that they were right. It’s not always better, there are still nights I cry myself to sleep thinking about the extra inches on my body, pinching them and wishing they could be sucked away. But there are also times where I am shocked. That I can go weeks without counting calories, I can not exercise with the intent of getting rid of the food I ate that day but because I’m having fun. That I can go out with friends to eat and order whatever I want off the menu, not only looking at the low calorie section. I wanted to tell you the truth about recovery. If there is someone out there reading this considering trying to recover from any mental illness, there IS something out there that is more than what you are feeling right now. It will be hard to get to. There will be days where you want to go back to the bad coping skills that numb all the emotions. But you have used those coping skills for years, and they’ve taken so much away from you. Recovery is not easy, I won’t lie to you. But, it is worth it. It is worth getting back all the things you mental illness has taken from you and you can do it. If I can do it, and I got this far, anyone can. I thought I was a lost cause and that I was going to die. But, even I came back and you will too.
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