I’m on a road that stretches so far off into the distance, I can’t see the end. I’ve heard tell that once I get there, life will be better. I’ve heard the trip’s a challenge, but the destination makes it worthwhile. I’m told that once I get there, things’ll be alright. Once I get down the…… Continue reading I’m on a road.
(November 15, 2017) Recovering from an eating disorder is hard work. Recovery is a daily slog that’s tiring as hell. Complaining about it reminds me that I’m blessed: I’m still here: too many other people I’ve known and cared for haven’t been as lucky. Unfortunately, the complaining sets off a round of self-criticism. According to…… Continue reading Letting eating disorders go.
(November 5, 2017) Trigger warning: moderately graphic eating disorder references. In the storage banks of my mind, where the memories of a thousand episodes of bingeing and purging live, one in particular jumps to the front of the flashback queue. There are other episodes, worse and more deadly, but it’s this one from my second…… Continue reading A bad day with bulimia.
Letting go of my eating disorder means grieving. It’s a loss. I’m losing my coping mechanism and my support system. I’m cutting out a piece of me, and that’s a wrench, despite it being the right choice. The excision will leave a hole, and I need to fill it. Whatever I choose has to feel more important…… Continue reading Grief.