I hate this disorder. I know I’m not the only one. Even in “recovery,” its taking over my life. It makes the things that usually make me happy stressful and scary and HARD. In trying to feel my feelings rather than stuff them down with food or starve them out without it, I end up feeling SO MUCH that living becomes near impossible. Last night I had the binge-iest binge I’ve had in months, and I won’t lie and say I haven’t been restricting too, these last few days. And tomorrow I’m seeing my therapist and my nutritionist, and I just am desperate to cancel my nutritionist so I don’t LIE to her about how I’m doing. I still truly believe I’m still in recovery, but I deplore telling her about the times that I take steps back. I can talk to my therapist about it, but with my nutritionist, it’s like I’m working really hard to keep this sort of upward motion so that I can stop talking to her.
So today I’m going back to basics. I successfully ate breakfast and then stopped, which is better than I’ve done in a couple of days. So. I had planned to go to the gym because my body image is SHIT at the moment, but I may just stay curled up in bed as long as possible because I have a busy couple of days coming up.
Cross your fingers for me.
“This vision tumbled over Phoebe with the force of revelation: she would stand somewhere and look back, she would live a life.”