my life is so different, now.
the past two moths have seemed like so much longer, so much more than they are truly. going back to school, going back to being myself has been everything i dreamed of; i feel like, finally, i'm doing something right.
studying psychology, dedicating my life to stopping the eating disorder that ravaged my life, family, and self became something i decided i wanted not too long ago --in a therapy secession, listening to my therapist and then my nutritionist tell me that they recovered themselves, that sitting in that chair solidified their resolve everyday to stay that way, and feeling in every meeting that compassion and understanding and getting the most insight i ever did from any former treatment team, made me decide that. but, putting aside everyone's doubts about the validity of that idea, about the validity of just my future as a whole, i did it. i am doing it. i made my decision, my selfish, impulsive decision and i am here, sitting in my bed in my grandmother's house under the big window i've always loved, and finally, i feel right. i feel like i'm growing --i feel more awake, cognizant than i have in years. i feel excited about the future. and, i feel healthier than i have in a long, long while.
i still feel sick, some days. a lot of days, actually. and maybe, i'm pushing it down, on the back burner, off the goddamn counter, but i want to forget this and live. even though i know i can't, that i'm sill symptomatic, that school has resulted in (more) weight loss, even if it's only minor. i wrote anorexia on my school health records for this; i am doing this in order not to lose sight of what shaped me, to not end this with a memoir ten years from now to shelve and forget, but to remember and let it drive me. i want to stop the hurt, that's what i told him. i'm still hurting and maybe i will for a long, long time, but this pain is going to become something. i am going to become something. i am not being written off as a chronic case --i want to develop treatment for the chronic patient because there is none. after textbook treatment, i had to heal myself and need to not only continue to but share and study and research and implement just how to, because a diagnosis of long-term eating disorder just gets the door shut in your face because full recovery rates when there is long-term history of behaviors are painfully low.
i'm not going to let that be me. it's so hard, because i am still hurting. i feel detached from myself --like the person in the mirror, even beyond the dysmorphia, isn't me. i know i'm changing, growing but it's hard. it hurts. i don't know how to feel about it all --it's all so overwhelming. i just keep getting told i have to compartmentalize, and that because i can't get rid of the eating disorder i have to pack it up and pretend it isn't there. to be a normal girl as long as i keep a cardigan on. to push through, push it back, swallow the bile, eat dinner, and do my homework. my boy was here, and he asked if i was really okay the night before he left. and i am but am not and when i told him it hasn't gone away, i just couldn't stop crying. he just kept saying he was proud of me, for everything and he held me and stayed up late, late into the night because i couldn't stop crying and trying to hurt myself. he's gone again and i just i feel so lonely. he's coming again for my birthday and bringing me home with him and it's just three weeks but i miss him so much once he's gone again.
tl;dr: i feel both smaller and bigger and i'm growing, but i need to fill that to make sure it stays. i need to be big enough to fill the mold of the person i want to be. but it hurts, and i am so, so tired of hurting and not being able to fix it,