I think I’m at the point where I’m just really disappointed in myself because I’m not better yet.
By saying that I don’t mean to discredit how far I’ve come – I know I have made progress in recovery. I’m better than I was. My list of fear foods, if I were to sit down and write one, is a fraction of what it once was. My anxiety about foods has lessened, I’ve relaxed about food rules, and I’ve had glimpses of how truly wonderful life must be without an eating disorder. But by no means can I say I’m recovered, and that fact makes me so, so angry at myself.
I really want to do better. I don’t want to be stuck in this disordered life forever; there’s so much I’m missing out on, still.
I know, I’ve preached on and on about the “compare and despair” thing, and how everyone’s recovery is a unique, individual journey. But right now, I think it’s the kick in the butt I need.
Two of my friends from Hope therapy have been top of my mind lately. One, for a terrible reason, and the other for a wonderful one.
I’ll start with the terrible.
I met Jess at Hope, and we just clicked. I felt we did at least, but I think that’s the way she made everyone feel – her loving, smiling, wonderful personality drew people to her, and made you feel special just to be in her presence. We helped each other through the shittiest struggles of recovery, and saw each other on some of our best and worst days. No matter how bad her day was going, Jess always had a smile, hug, or a joke to make someone else feel better. I watched her transform from a sad, sick, ghost of a girl to the glowing, happy, healthy girl I loved. The past few months I really think she was doing well – living her life fully and happily.
In the midst of her living her life and doing what she loved, Jess died in what I can only call a freak accident while rock climbing. It’s still fresh, and not completely real to my brain, so I won’t write a lot about it, but I’m overwhelmed by how unfair life can be. Jess struggled so hard, and overcame so much, just for this to take away the life she fought for. My heart is absolutely broken.
At the same time, another one of my recovery friends is making my heart glow with pride. When I first went to Hope, Brittany had been going for quite a while already, and although I immediately liked her, in the back of my mind she was always somewhat of a lost cause. It was obvious how very much she was struggling, and I was afraid she was one of the unlucky ones who are stuck, just “surviving” within the disorder for the rest of their lives.
Well, a year and a half later, she’s proving me wrong, and I’ve never been happier about being wrong. She’s gone away to an inpatient program, and as I watch her progress through Facebook, and get lil updates via text message, I can’t help but grin. I think she’s really beating this. She’s becoming healthier, brighter, realer in every picture, and you can see in her smile that recovery agrees with her – mind, body, and soul. She’s been a bit of an inspiration for me.
If my two friends, both of whom I had labeled “sicker than me”, can recover and leave Ed in the past, what’s stopping me? I know the answer, and It’s time I acted on it. Nothing’s stopping me but myself.
It’s time to step my game up.
Recovery is possible, even for me.