One of those days where it feels like I am trying to swim through ice. Cold, painful, but most importantly, immobile.
I woke up and tried to mask my dread at tackling the day. I ate breakfast and did some of my scrapbook, pretending to be normal. I read some of my recovery book (a fantastic book), and then had my phone call with the psych.
I have spent the day kidding myself I am fine but I am not. And here I am – bingeing.
It is one of those days I don’t want to fight, but you simply have to, because it’s like having a monster on your back you can’t fight anymore, but if you don’t it won’t leave you. I am a fox being chased by a pack of hounds, and they are close to killing me but I have to keep running though I am so damn tired.
I want to walk away but I cannot do that because bulimia is my shadow.
I don’t want to fight it; I want it to leave me. But it won’t leave me unless I keep fighting but I am so tired of it clogging my thoughts and suffocating me.
I just lay on my bed and thought I want a rest. But I cannot have one from this disease, which I have also realised is perhaps becoming an epidemic after reading some statistics from my book.
I feel sick; I want to be empty.
However, every cloud has a silver lining and this rather sombre post has a very, very positive side. I have been feeling lost again, like I am at a junction and have no idea which road to take (maybe that’s what recovery is, it isn’t a straight path but a series of roundabouts and you have to choose the exit carefully to avoid going back a step or hitting a dead end). But the therapist put me back on track. It is like I am an ant trying to find its nest and every time I stray off she picks me up and puts me back in place. I feel independent and in control yet monitored and helped. She told me, from this past week, it looks like planning what to eat a day in advance might do some good. So as of tonight, I start planning. I still eat forbidden foods, I still eat 1540, but all I do is plan what those foods will be the night before. That way the day may feel more manageable.
So that’s it until next time, in which I have restored faith that I will be progressing on the road to recovery once again after this little breather.
In fact, I will be honest. I know I have said this a million times but I really believe tomorrow is a fresh start. Another attempt to kill the beast inside me. I have tried to kill it dozens of times but I feel hopeful that this time I will. Or at least, I will get closer to finally doing so.