The thing I am struggling most with right now in "choosing" recovery (by "choosing" I mean, giving it my all) is that I want some sort of guarantee. I like to plan ahead. I like to know how things will pan our, what's going to happen, what shape things will form. Life does not work like that (much to my annoyance). I want some type of guarantee that life will be better- I have this vision in my head of being happy and healthy and functional in a conventional sense of the world. I find it hard to accept that I have quirks and personality traits that are what make me *me*- I want to become somebody else through recovery.
This of course defies all logic. Life won't suddenly become sunshine and rainbows. I probably will struggle to find a job at all in this economy, let alone one that matches my dreams and aspirations. There will always be broken friendships, bills to pay, rainy days. That's LIFE.
When I think about the "guarantee" that comes with an eating disorder (physical problems, inability to function, memory/concentration problems, isolation, obsessions) it seems ridiculous that I won't just take the risk of stepping into a world which has both ups AND downs. Why would I choose a life that is pretty much jam-packed of the "downs"?
Because it's guaranteed. It's predictable. It matches how I function- it's all very scientific and mathematical. It goes more by logic (eat x = y occurs, do z = yy occurs). It shuts me off from having to form friendships or relationships. I don't put myself out there to be rejected by friends/family/jobs because I am more concerned with what's going on in my head. Depressed? Walk X miles. Anxious? Purge. There are "simple" problems and "simple" solutions. It's straight-forward, and for something that needs order and control (oh, how cliche), it's easier.
But is it really?
I have nothing. I live alone and I talk to precisely 4 people regularly- one of whom is my mom, the other 3 are treatment professionals. My "hobbies" are all food related. Food can't hurt me the way people can. I tell myself it's easier like this. That I am safer like this. That this is the best option for me.
Honestly? I am scared to death of leaving this behind because I don't know how to function in the world without an eating disorder. I didn't know how to handle it when I was dealing with the stress last summer of getting rejected from one job interview after another. I didn't know how to cope when friends cancelled plans or didn't return calls. I took it so personally: obviously there was something wrong with ME. I couldn't step back and see that maybe the economy is just s*** right now, maybe the job wasn't a good fit, maybe my friends were busy... I just saw it as evidence that I was not cut out for working/friendships/normality.
It just seems to stupid. I look at the guarantees that come with anorexia and it's NOT what I want. But I choose it because I understand it. I know where I stand, the way the path weaves, the journey it takes, the consequences.
Life is just one huge mass of scribbly lines and bright colours.
I feel crazy writing this. I regret deleting this afternoon's post because it was pretty much identical to this one- but with me recognising that I was copping-out BIG time and saying over and over again that I DO NOT WANT TO BE 'THAT' GIRL. I wrote about not wanting to be the girl who stays home obsessing about food/calories, who never eats her own birthday cake, never does anything with her life. I wrote it and I mean it. I really do. I hate that I dole out advice and never take my own. I hate that I complain about hating my eating disorder, about wanting to move to New York, about these amazing plans I have- yet that I don't actually make any real concerted effort to change my situation.
I've been in treatment enough times to know how to eat. I have the CBT and DBT handouts. I can spout therapy jargon in my sleep. Yet something stops me from putting it all into practice.
I read a lot of blogs and I want so badly to be part of the "recovering" community. I know that you guys struggle each and every day, and I see you fighting so.damn.hard. I feel like my blog is just one big joke, and I am "that girl". The one who sits at home bitching and moaning and being miserable whilst having a rather intimate affair with the disease she claims to hate.
That's the real reason I deleted my earlier post. Not because I didn't mean what I said, but because it felt ridiculous reading it back. Like "the boy who cried wolf". I read it and it just didn't match up with "me". It was full of resolutions that this needs to stop NOW, that it's gone on long enough and I am so damn tired of it and tired of myself and tired of the same old s*** every.single.day. But staring back at me from the screen it just looked like some cheesy cliched crap. I feel like I bring the whole blogging community down (which is really rather egocentric of me- nobody is forced to read my blog!)
I don't know if I am making sense. I am literally all over the place right now- feeling like I am at a crossroad, and have been for quite some time. I debate constantly about having to choose either recovery or anorexia, when really it's just an excuse to delay things because I keep clinging to the hope that at some point, there will be an awesome pay-off to my eating disorder (which yes, I am aware will never come on an intellectual level, but emotionally I still want things to match up and make pretty patterns/colours/rainbows).
eleven months old.
4 weeks ago