Intentions,  Personal

Not all days are rainbow and sunshine.

This was the first time in a looooong time that I struggled this big. As I’m crying over a meal. A meal I didn’t want to eat at all. I knew I did it in the wrong order. I showered too late. And yet I felt pretty good after it. but all the sudden I saw my reflection. and that was not what my eating-disordered mind wanted to see.

It was never good enough, not at my lowest. Not at a healthy point. not even in between. I can’t remember a day that I was happy with how I looked. It’s like buying a car, you know which brand you like, yet all the cars you see are not perfect enough, either the color is off, the radio hasn’t all the features you want or the seats are not leather. And although you want that KIA for example, you can’t find the perfect one that has all the features you want. I feel the same. It’s never good enough, I’m either too heavy, or not light enough, I either love my bones, or I hate them cause I look ill. I don’t know if my head ever will be happy with how I look.

I know body dysmorphia is really difficult in recovery, it’s the last thing that apparently will stabilize, it’s the most difficult to stabilize, and yet I’m expecting that after almost 22 years of an eating disorder that after almost 10 months I would be healed enough and I could finally fix my body dysmorphia. Guess we are still at the beginning stages and i’m asking way to much of myself again. Why is it so difficult for me to not give myself time? Why has everything to be fixed yesterday? Why is one day at the time so hard?

I wish I could see myself from the future, or remind myself how bad it was. Like go back one day to feel how shit I felt 10 months ago. It would put everything in perspective again. My strong-headed mind, my recovery voice, and especially everything I built op in these 10 months, I would lose. Writing this down makes my head a bit more clear. Relapsing would mean I would lose my chosen family, I would lose my sisters, my friends, my work, my support system. But most of all, I would lose myself. And I know I don’t have another round of treatment in me. So I would give up probably. And that’s not what I’ve been fighting for so hard. I want to live!

Thank you for reading. This is another snippet of my brain, but it is what it is.


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