So yeah, it seems like I am forever talking about ED lately. But I have a good excuse this time! Its National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (well, in America anyway.) I am late in the game, seeing as it’s Sunday but it was a tough aul week. I am back to writing and running and annoying people so its all as usual 🙂
This week is all about raising awareness about eating disorders and cultivating self love. We read it over and over but I’ll say it again: eating disorders are not about food. They are a way of coping when we can’t cope ourselves. It is only when the disorder itself becomes too much to handle that we start to see it as a problem. Last week was difficult for me because, not only was I sick, I started questioning the decision to leave my eating disorder behind me. Recovery to me was too difficult, had more cons than pros and was just not progressing at all. I was still binge eating, I was still obsessed with thinness and I was still counting the calories of every morsel I put in my mouth. After coming to a head on Tuesday, I knew that really I had not committed to recovery. And I know I have said that before here but I was just fighting. Everyday was a struggle and every night was going to sleep knowing tomorrow was going to be as hard. Days still felt like failures or successes. So I am not embarking on yet another plan that I must adhere to.
Through my Internet trawling this week (check Road to Recovery in my blogroll for some awedome articles,) I found a new website, Gala Darling. One of her go to features is Radical Self Love. And who here isn’t in need of a little more of that? This whole loving myself concept is the single hardest part of the recovery process for me. Self criticism is so firmly ingrained in me that I can’t remember when it wasn’t swirling around my head. Maybe when I was three 🙂 To counteract this, I have been writing something in my journal everyday. Its not a ‘what happened in my day’ journal nor is it a ‘these are my feelings’ journal. Its just quotes and pictures and lists. But it is calming and I know that when a compulsion hits, I can look in that.
I feel somewhat stronger, even though it still kind of bugs me that I won’t be aiming for perfection anymore. I still count calories, but now it is more of a casual observance, like noticing the colour of a car, not a factor in my eating for the day. I still have compulsions, and strong ones at that, but even if its so bad that I want to cry, I know I have it in me to resist. I have stopped wearing my pacer to measure every single calorie burned. I am not, and will not be, a size 8. And I know that I will make my peace with that eventually.
Sometimes its enough to just say “Fuck you, eating disorder. I am more than my weight.”
And one of these days, I will truly believe that.
P.s. This is a-to-the-mazing.