I was discharged from the Intensive Home Treatment Team today- my initial thought was, "does that mean I am fine now?" I don't feel much different to how I did a month ago, 2 months, 3 months ago- but that doesn't mean that how I felt then was "wrong" in some way. Maybe I am already at the place I need to be?
This is all rather confusing. I guess my point is, how do we know if we have recovered or not? I've talked before about recovery, in my head, as being this magical sparkly wonderful happy place. I know that place doesn't exist. Which means I have to define recovery for myself- which makes me wonder if I am already there. I'm not in the same "place" that a lot of people (non-eating disordered/recovered) are, but I don't think I ever WILL be. Because I am not them and my life will be shaped by MY thoughts/feelings/ideas/goals and nobody else's. I haven't achieved my goals in life yet, but hell- I'm 26. I have a lot of time ahead of me to be reaching my goals. That's what life is all about, right? Constantly changing, growing, maturing. There IS no final destination. You just carry on making sense of things as best as you can, accepting the things you don't understand, forming relationships, doing new things/getting better at old things, making mistakes and getting back on your feet. C'est la vie.
This train of thought was prompted not just by my discharge from the IHTT, but also when it struck me how bored I am. Bored of anorexia, YES (my god- how many hours can I obsess over the size of a banana before I realise how freaking DULL it is?!) but also bored of recovery. NOT bored of the idea of recovery, but bored of the grey in between area between sick and well. I'm tired of thinking the same thoughts (whether they are ED/recovery), tired of the same dilemmas/decisions (blueberries or raspberries? distraction or CBT? acceptance or pushing for change?). I am just starting to feel like this is all losing any meaning- none of it seems important right now.
I feel like I did when I was 10- I had osgood schlatters disease (when the muscle in your knee grows faster than the bone) and spent the summer on crutches. I wanted to go to the tennis camp I went to every year. Instead I sat in a bean bag reading for the entire summer...losing myself in stories about people who were out playing hockey, horseback riding, ice skating. I wanted more than ANYTHING to be running around with my friends but my body wasn't co-operating. (My parents did console me by letting me get my ears pierced- thanks guys!)
I kind of feel like this now.
Yet there is nothing concrete/tangible that I can *see* to stop me. Depression, anxiety, ED thoughts- they don't show up on x-rays or scans. There is nothing I can point to and say, "okay- I'll fix this" because I'm not quite sure what is wrong. Or if there even IS something wrong. Which leads me back to my original paragraph.
Maybe this is "normal" after all...
or maybe I just need to believe it's normal because it's driving me insane and I don't know how to fix it
eight months old.
6 days ago