It’s 2019! Phew!

I got through the holiday season without resorting to purging! I think it’s been 2 years since I’ve ever done that. As most people with eating disorders would agree, the holiday season brings on extra anxiety. So many parties, dinners, treats, all around. ALL THE TIME. For MONTHS. It makes one want to isolate. Make excuses why you can’t attend a party or if you really have to, sometimes you end up resorting to purging after the party because you feel such guilt over the bad food you ate. I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around the fact that there is no good or bad foods. It’s just food. It can’t be so black and white. And it makes sense that every food has a different value to it and that eating a variety to get a good mix of all the different values is what is important. But then for some reason I still panic and feel guilty when I eat them. I still panic when I eat out at a restaurant. I still want to fix it by purging and exercising. But somehow, by miracles I assume, I never ended up purging. Sometimes, when I was feeling emotional, I’d plan the binge and purge and then I’d binge and not end up purging. The other day when this happened, I actually grew so tired after a binge that I could hardly even find the energy to brush my teeth before going to bed. I really can’t explain it! But I’m so grateful! Because now, finally, the new year is here and the parties will slow and regular life will return. It’s such a relief! I really do love the holiday season for its other reasons, but the food culture attached to it is definitely not a favorite part of it. I know I need to work at that and really have been challenging myself to eat some of these fear foods and sit with it. And it has been so so hard! But it isn’t impossible. I am proof of that! It just takes a lot of mental determination and practice. I’m also realizing that my emotional state plays a huge part. When I’m upset, depressed, lonely, I tend to want to let go of any hope of recovery. I tend to want to hurt myself. And I’ve been trying to find better coping skills and outlets and it has helped so much. That and talking with friends about how I’m doing and how I’m feeling. Lately I’ve been upset with myself as I have realized that it has now been 8 years of looking for recovery. Eight freaking years and I’m still struggling to stay in recovery. Still failing at it. Still falling down. But I still keep getting up and trying again, Because I can’t give up. I have too many reasons to keep trying. So, I will. THIS IS RECOVERY.

The worst hurt ever.

It’s been over 3 weeks since losing my baby. 3 weeks since I held his tiny lifeless body for the first and last time. He was tiny, oh so tiny. And perfect. No doubt how perfect. And precious. Just so precious. My heart hurts all the time. A constant pain in my chest. Sometimes it is a slight ache and sometimes that slight ache builds to indescribeable pain and the sorrow I feel drowns me. I cannot breathe. ED attacks me at these moments. Tells me I know how to stop the hurt. Tells me there is a way to get away from the pain and to gain control of my uncontrollable life. I still fight, but I’m wearing down and losing strength. My grip on the slide is slipping.
This last week I have been running to make the hurt feel better. My body aches and I like it. This is the pain that I can handle. The pain that I am used to. This pain helps mask the other pain. This pain I can control.
Eating is becoming a chore. I know it has to be done eventually. And at times I force myself to get it overwith with every intention to purge it. As if that is my reward for eating it. Somehow, the purging hasn’t happened in the end. Somehow I have held off although that release is something I really want right now.
I just long for my baby boy. The void I feel is endless. Why? Why did I have to lose him? I had worked so hard and was completely healthy this time and this is how it ends? I do not understand.