Six Years Strong
Six years ago I was on a plane to a little place called Wickenburg, AZ. I had no idea what to expect when I arrived, nor did I realize how lost I had become. Lost, not in a directional way, but lost in a 'who am I/what am I doing here?' kind of way. Even when I arrived, thousands of miles away from Stefan, I didn't really feel anything besides a splitting headache. Naturally, I hadn't eaten most of the day, hence the terrible headache...but they would 'fix' that, wouldn't they? I remember having my belongings searched; no earrings allowed, no floss, no razor, no shirts with logos, no shampoo/conditioner if it contained alcohol. Well shit, this is the real deal. I went downstairs to get some vitals and testing done, and that's when I discovered that the results of my EKG weren't great...I was really doing damage to my body that could ultimately have killed me. While I knew what I was doing, I never believed I would die. There were so many other people who were 'sicker' than me...I would be fine.
I met my housemates; the most amazing, unique, beautiful, caring people...why would they do this to themselves? How could I do this to myself? We were all so different, yet the same. All on different paths, but all hoping for recovery. I cried during my first night time snack...I was too full, I couldn't do it. There beside me, another young woman fighting a similar fight. Cheering me on, she knew what I didn't yet...I could do it, I could beat my eating disorder. I learned a lot about each of them over the course of my stay, but even more so, I learned a lot about myself and slowly started to rediscover myself.
Since leaving treatment I have had a lot of life changes but have always tried to stay strong in my recovery. There have been days where I have felt lost, felt defeated and frankly hated myself. There were also days where I thought about giving into the eating disorder because things would be 'easier'. There have even been days when I wanted to give up on everything. To be honest, every day is still a struggle, making sure I'm doing the right thing for my body, recognizing when I haven't and making the commitment to try again tomorrow.
Eating. To many it's a simple thing. You eat when you're hungry and stop when your full. For others, like myself, it's a battle daily to decide what to eat, how much and deciding when their body is finished/full. As a person in recovery who is doing my best every single day, it is hard to live in a world that tells you, thin is beautiful, eat clean or die trying and exercise daily, when it is those very messages that some are trying to rid our brains of.
Please don't take for granted your ability to eat, enjoy and digest...for some it's not that simple.
The love and support I have received over the years has been incredible, and it is a great reminder of who I am and how far I've come. When I look at my children I can't imagine a life without them and I am so grateful that my body forgave me for the abuse and provided me with so much hope and love.
Comments
Post a Comment