Ups and Downs

Typical – I thought I’d plow through this recovery thing.  Easy peas, no problem.

When I went to Orientation at the Hope program, they said the average “graduation” time was one year.  Sometimes longer, but that was generally how long patients attended the program before being sufficiently recovered.  At that point, I wasn’t fully on board with recovery even if I could have an easy quick fix, so a whole year of therapy was not in my plans.

That was in June.  At the very most, I expected I’d be done with all this by Christmastime.  And here it is, five weeks until Christmas, and I’m fairly certain that I’ll need a lot more than that just-over-a-month.  So much for getting this over with in a hurry.

I’ve heard over and over again that recovery has its ups and downs.  Too true.  The past month alone has been so up-and-downy that I almost feel motion sick.  I go back and forth between feeling great about recovery and feeling hopeless on an almost weekly basis.

The past week was a rough one.  I don’t know where all the anxiety is coming from, but good lord, I’ve been on edge.  I cried at a family dinner a few days ago – I don’t think that’s ever happened before.  The things like that, that seem to be getting worse, are so, so frustrating.  Sometimes it makes me wonder what good is coming out of all my efforts; on the bad days it seems like recovery is making every aspect of my life that much more of a struggle.

But then I have a good day, and I remember how glad I am I started this journey.

Yesterday I had that day that turns me around again, back to positivity.  I had such an enjoyable day at Hope, hashing out issues in group, and talking and laughing with the other girls in between appointments.  Even the cookie I had with lunch made my day a bit nicer.  (And THAT is a true recovery win!)

It just takes one day like that to remind me how good life is, and how much more I have to look forward to.  As unsure and apprehensive as I was last spring when I decided to start therapy, it was 100% the best decision I’ve ever made.  Even if recovery does take a year, or longer, and even if that whole time is filled with struggle, I don’t regret it for a minute.  I’ve heard before that the worst days in recovery are better than the best days with an eating disorder, and honestly, I can’t think of anything more true.  Ed Life is rotten.

But ED Life is a thing of the past, and I’m working on putting it further and further behind me.
Real Life?  Healthy Life?
That’s pretty great.