Sometimes I hate being right. I predicted in my last “I love life, recovery is awesome” post that I was in for a few struggle-y days, and yup, this weekend was a struggle.
Still, it was different than most other times when I’ve had a lapse or bad feelings about recovery. More of a mental exhaustion than anything else, since I didn’t restrict or even consider giving up on my fight to recover. The anxiety was overwhelming though. I don’t think a single meal this weekend was easy; even foods that have never been a challenge caused me stress and overthinking. And then, I felt guilty about being stressed. I don’t want to be so anxious and uptight about foods, especially at this point in recovery! I felt guilty for not pushing myself, and for worrying about what my family was having for dinner, and for even having this kind of struggle after feeling so good just last week. I think I was really disappointed in myself for maybe not being as recovered as I had told myself.
But today I’m making myself think about it differently. I’m well aware that “recovery is not a linear process”, and that it’s not going to be fun and exciting all the time. I’m allowed to have days where I don’t feel great, that’s normal. And having those days does nothing to take away from all the progress I’ve made (because I really have come a long way from where I was).
I talked to my mom this morning, and let her know how I’ve been feeling the past few days. And she basically told me what I knew already. It’s all going to be okay; I’m strong and I’m gonna fight for this and I’m gonna be alright. I feel like by acknowledging to myself and to mom that I’ve been struggling, I’m free now to shake off those bad vibes. It’s a new day, and a new week, and a new month. Time for a fresh start and renewed energy for recovery.
I’m alllllll about ‘dat positive attitude.