The darker days are beginning to get lighter again. I find my smile is coming more quickly, my words taking less effort to speak out loud. I think I am waking up to all that I have done, all that I have been doing and I am more sure than ever that I am not ok with it. Anorexia took so much from me and even now it still keeps me wrapped up in its binds, but I think I am beginning to see and accept that recovery is not a sprint to the end but rather a marathon.
Each day I wake up in the morning and know that for the next 17 hours I am going to have to consistently try. I have to eat, engage, listen and above all else not give up hope. I am changing though which I am grateful for and after this weekend I can see how expansive that change is. I went home for a couple of days and spent a really nice time being there and getting used to my space again. It felt comfortable. On Saturday, to help me with some work that I am doing in therapy, I went up to my study and got a few of my old diaries. It was mind-blowing to read about how much pain I was once in. The desperation and need for death was in every page. There was no hope and if I’m perfectly honest I’m not sure how I survived myself. I am not sure how I’m still here. When I could read no more, for a while I felt really sad for that person that I was but also determined not to go back. What I guess I also saw was that even on my dark days now I don’t lose myself as much as I did then…and if I can live though that, then I sure as hell can live through this.
I hope your day is good to you.