Something New.

Recently, I have been trying to instigate a new hobby of mine. I have desperately needed something to fill void that I can not fill with running or working out at the moment. As much as I hate that aspect of recovery, I know that it is necessary. Finding something that distracts me from thoughts of working out and running, and something that fills that spacious void of wanting to feel Gods breeze against me as I run will never be filled by anything else. But in the meantime I am discovering new hobbies, in fact, there is one that I have probably had for quite some time but I supressed.

So, a few weeks ago I decided to give a new idea a try. And let me just say I am happy that I did! I invested in some canvas, paint, and brushes and I finished one painting with another in the works.

The story behind this painting revolves around my recovery process. Each and every aspect has a meaning at this moment in my life. The puzzle piece represents the pieces of the puzzle in my life begining to come together, slowly but surely. Inside, the tree signifies the growth I have experenced the past few years, and especially the past few months. And then the butterfly is significant of recovery from both OCD and eating disorder. I see myself now as finally coming out of the cocoon that I have been in for so long. Through recovery I have been slowly breaking out of that cocoon.

Other than that new hobby, I have been trying to write and journal whenever I feel the need. I am slowly freeing myself from the mental battle with exercise. Although it has gotten much better it is still something I struggle with at times.

Throughout my recovery process, I have learned many, many things. But when it comes to my relationship with exercise, I have learned some very important things. I have learned that taking more than one day off will not cause me to lose my endurance. I have learned that having a week with less exercise is not going to make me fat. At all. That is one of the biggest eating disorder recovery lies, and it is definitely not true. I have learned that exercise does not need to be my main focus in life. It should not cause anxiety if I have a change of plans and cannot run. Exercise had become a chore, something I had to do no matter how exhausted, hungry, or tired I was. It had become an obsession. But now, my outlook has changed. Exercise is now a blessing, something that I am very thankful for. When I do run or workout in any way lately, I enjoy it and I feel good when doing it.

My outlook on a lot of things are begining to change for the better.

Life is getting its color back.

Three Months, Two Weeks and Five Days.

This week has been pretty amazing. It has been one of those weeks that I had always dreamed about, but never though would come true before I started recovery. In fact, even during recovery, especially the first two months, I never thought I was going to feel any better. But this week, I cannot even describe it, I have challenged myself multiple times, done things on a whim, ventured outside of my rigid routines and lived life. I feel like this last week has been a glimpse of how great my future will because I am recovering. And to top it off, I could not have done it without the help of someone very special.

As I checked the date today, I realized it had been exactly three months, two weeks and five days since I started what I consider true recovery. It has been that long since I stepped foot on the scale and also that long since starting with my dietitian.

Honestly, I cant believe that it has been only that long. It feels like it has been much longer than that due to how much has gone on and changed in those few short months.

But if I had to label this week, I would say that it has been the best week in recovery so far. In fact, this is the best week that I have had in who knows how long.

I never thought I would be able to say that recovery is worth it, because at the time I felt so awful and lost. But recovery is worth it, and weeks like these remind me of that.

That Overwhelming Feeling.

This week I have had two therapy sessions. Honestly, I would love to have twenty three therapy sessions a week. But lets be realistic…Anyways, this week my therapist and I tackled something new. Something which I thought I was ready for, until I was on my way home from my appointment yesterday. Seriously, could my anxiety be any less cooperative? Is it too much to ask for it to attack me when I am actually in a session? On my way home my eating disorder decided to attack me, and attack me it did. As a result my anxiety skyrocketed and I became increasingly overwhelmed.

This week we reviewed how we were on track when it comes to recovery. We have been acknowledging all the steps I need to take including the ones I have been taking for the past few months. But my therapist pointed out that there was one main aspect of my recovery plan was missing; a relapse prevention plan.

A relapse prevention plan is a great idea. I think that it is a good step to take, one that is needed and definitely helpful. But if you were to ask me what my eating disorder thought about that great idea, well, it does not think it is such a great idea. In fact, it made that point very clear yesterday.

I was driving home when the realization hit me. I was hit with such an intense and overwhelming feeling. Literally every emotion that I have suppressed throughout the week flooded to the surface. Let me just take a moment to thank God for the invention of sunglasses because those things are life savers, because no one could see the tears while I was in the car. But as I drove home I let the tears fall because I felt hopeless and defeated.

But why?

I am thrilled to be setting up a relapse prevention plan, especially because I have been struggling lately. But my eating disorder came swooping in with its lies and crap to save the day. But what it has not caught on to is the fact that I don’t want to be saved by it anymore. I want to be saved from it, not by it.

When the overwhelming anxiety came over me, I immediately knew why.

Control.

Or rather lack of control.

My eating disorder told me I was losing control.

Setting up a relapse prevention plan is cutting off one more bit of control that the eating disorder tells me I need. It cuts off that one string that makes me feel in control. Setting up this plan takes away the comfort, the piece of comfort that I am still holding on to so tightly. The comfort that I can always go back even though I definitely don’t want to.

The most important thing that I need to remember is that I am not losing control, in fact, I am gaining control. I was not in control with my eating disorder, it was in control of me and now I am gaining that control back. It is ridiculous the amount of times I have had to repeat that to myself since after therapy yesterday. But I will keep telling myself that because it is true.

So guess what eating disorder, who is the one in control now?

I am not going to lie, I am struggling. The thoughts are still ruminating in my mind and the anxiety is still lingering in my chest. But I know that setting up a relapse prevention plan is the next step. A step that is necessary.

Two Months.

Fun fact about me: I like to keep track of dates, especially when they are significant or special to me. For example, today is a very significant day and here’s why…

Two months ago I was a slave to the scale. I was controlled by the stupid numbers that beat me up me every day from morning until night, only to repeat the sick cycle over again the minute my alarm woke me up.

Two months ago I told my therapist that I stepped on the scale every morning. I admitted that I had a problem, an OCD and eating disorder collaboration that ruined my day time and time again, yet I could not let go.

Two months ago I never thought that this day would come. Two months ago I never imagined I could go even two days without steeping on the scale, yet here I am two months later. I didn’t expect to stop weighing myself cold turkey, in fact, when my therapist and I set up the exposure with only weighing myself every other day, I was not sure I could do it.

For two months I have chosen not to step on the scale in the bathroom. The bathroom being two feet from my room, it would be easy to break my two month streak. I could come up with excuses and reasons to know how much I have gained the past two months on my increase meal plan. I could easily slip back into the routine of weighing myself every morning, but that is a habit that I am glad I broke.

Two months ago, the first thought that crossed my mind in the morning related to the scale. It was mandatory that I step on it, even though I knew that more times than not, it would portray numbers that I would never be happy with.

But now, I am happy to say that when I wake up the scale is not the first though that crosses my mind, and I pray that it never becomes my morning routine again.

This morning I walked into the bathroom, stood in front of the scale and smiled. The scale no longer controls my day. It no longer dictates my mood or how I feel about myself. I will admit that I wonder what the numbers would read, but most days I do not even want to know, because I know it would not make me happy. Although I know I am not ready to know my weight, I hope that someday I will be. I hope that someday I will be able to step on the scale and not criticize myself for whatever the number reads. I believe that one day I will be able to step on the scale and not care what it says. But at this point in my recovery I don’t need to know. What I need to do is trust that my body will settle into the weight range that it is comfortable with. The awkward weight gain will eventually redistribute and my body will settle into the range in which it can function on a normal level and provide the energy I need for my daily life. I can tell you that I definitely have not come to a point of accepting my body, or the higher number that the scale will portray, which are both reasons why I know it is not time for me to know my weight yet. 

The past two months have not been easy for more reasons other than just not weighing myself. But through these two months I have accomplished things that I never thought I would. Even though these two months have felt like decades long, I know that I will not feel this way the rest of my life. This season I am going through, although long and tedious, is only temporary.

Conquering daily battles, and breaking binding habits only make me one step closer to my end goal: Freedom. And through this accomplishment, I am that much closer.