The Mini(?) Relapse

Is there even such a thing? Right now, my problems feel like anything but 'mini'. I think I really am a sponge when it comes to absorbing the issues of others because they seem to have an unusually large effect on me.

Yes I have realized that I'm relapsing back into my old ways (counting calories, measuring food, restricting in general, etc.) but I guess that realization is already a step forward right? At least now I am able to recognize when things aren't going well and it's having an effect on my eating. Why do I do this to myself? I guess because it's easy. Life is easier when the only thing that matters is food and how much I shouldn't allow myself to eat. I also realize that this is wrong and a terrible way of dealing with my problems.
I wish I could say art was what I turned to in terms of expressing my anxiety, my worries but it isn't. At least not anymore.

Hunger has become my new safety blanket. Or it has been for the last 4 years. Yes that is a long time to be so self-destructive. My body probably hates me for it now...

I guess I just have to keep reminding myself to take each day at a time though and that one or two bad days (horrible, mind-fucking days) are only that and tomorrow can be a new start, a new beginning as long as I survive through it. I'm still alive now aren't I? Which means today doesn't have to be bad. It can be good so long as I try my best to make it so.
I am going to try and keep trying. Today should be better. It WILL be better. I'll make sure of that.

Still Digesting...

So far it feels all I've posted about are my realizations and revelations about how wonderful recovery is. Well, here I am to put things in perspective and say recovery can be a damn bitch at times too. It's not all unicorns and rainbows I'm afraid.

What brought this up was the troubles I've been having this past week. One day I restricted because I was depressed and nothing seemed worth it anymore. Another day I had a 'reactive eating' episode and could hardly deal with the guilt of eating enough for my body for once. Both times were lows and even though I've since gotten over most of it, I'm beginning to see how difficult this journey I've undertaken actually is. Sure full recovery looks wonderful and is definitely worth striving for, but the bumps along the way can be excruciatingly painful.

I guess what I'm getting at is I've had my share of good days and bad days and days where I wish I could stay in bed and curl up in a ball and never face the world again. However, that's just the way things are and life is not easy whether you're fighting ED or not. It's a battlefield out there to quote some cheesy song lyric and I'm here to say that truer words have never been said or sung.

Except we have to keep on trucking... right? Or else we'll never be happy and I really believe that having even one happy day would be worth all the bad days. Because I haven't been truly happy in a while... and I think I deserve to feel it one day... to feel something at all actually sounds pretty brilliant right about now. People were not meant to be numb all day long or else we'd be robots. And I don't much care to be a robot.

... And a Step into Gum

As long as it's not a step back, I am feeling pretty okay. I'm talking about my panic over two recent meals where I had absolutely no way of calculating calories and that have driven me crazy. One was a Korean dish of cold noodles served with veggies, half a hard-boiled egg (why only half? Do they have a container in the back full of hard-boiled egg halves? Do they do it to save money and half my egg will end up on someone else's plate?) in a spicy, sesame-oil sauce. Sure it tasted awesome and I would surely have it again but I couldn't help but panic afterwards at the thought of the calories I'd just ingested. Then there was the lunch I had today, a seven-grain salad essentially drenched in a curry vinaigrette that, again, was awesome and will become a staple for me should I ever need to buy lunch from the college cafeteria again but still, the panic was there.

Now that I think about it again however, I realize how stupid I am (or ED is) for being so concerned about numbers rather than appreciating the good meals I had had and feeling good about discovering new foods that I like and that I would love to have again. Who the fuck cares how many calories were in them? I shouldn't that's for sure, especially if the numbers are just going to take up valuable brain-space which I could be reserving for some more vital information, like the sculpture I have yet to complete for class Monday.

Sure I haven't been counting my calories for a week now and I have absolutely no idea how many I've had today, but the numbers are still running through my mind and the constant worry that they're too high. I know there is no 'too high' in recovery though and I didn't actually manage to gain weight this week even though I did try to add calories here and there in the form of higher calorie bread, more peanut butter, adding an extra spoonful of sesame seeds to my salad, and on and on. Frankly, I'm starting to think intuitive eating coupled with buying more calorie-dense foods and having liquid calories may not be enough... but we'll see.

For next time though, I need to remind myself that food is more than a number and a list of nutritional information on the back of the package, it is energy and sustenance that is essential for ... well... living.
It doesn't hurt if it's goddamn tasty food either.