By far, the most frustrating part of recovery is the non-linearness of it all. It’s not a straight line. It’s up and down. It’s having an easy morning, then feeling like each bite of dinner takes hours to convince yourself to eat. It’s laughing and having a great time with friends, then crying later over how intense you feel everything. It’s not linear in any sense of the word, and sometimes it feels like I’m taking two steps back for every step forward.
Sometimes I don’t know how or if I can make this my future. On these days, I’m honestly just full of anger that the tasks that are excruciating and agonizing for me, are so easy for other people. I’m pissed off at the universe for dealing me this hand of cards. Those days are the days that I remind myself that I can’t choose what cards I’m dealt, I can only play the hell out of them. So that’s what I do. Those are the days I have to fight the hardest. Those days are when it’s crucial that I eat my full meal plan, follow my exercise guidelines, and take care of myself. Those are the days when giving up would be so much easier, but that wouldn’t get me closer to where I want to be, and that wouldn’t make me happy.
And sometimes, it feels like I could do this forever. Recovery has given me some of the happiest moments in a long time. Last week, I hiked with a friend (hi Bailey) and was able to be present and enjoy the nature and the company, instead of feeling like I was going to faint the entire time. This past weekend, I spent time with my best friend from residential treatment (at you, McKenna) and we ate chinese and life was fun and almost normal. Even when I work, I’m grateful, because four months ago, I never could have stood on my feet for 5 hour shifts. These little moments are the ones I’m living for.
The hardest part is being able to remember the little things. It’s hard to remember that those little moments are why I’m fighting so hard every day. Because if I don’t remember those, I can slip. Any of us- my wonderful, strong, incredible friends from treatment- could lose this battle if we forget how worth it recovery can be, if we just let ourselves feel the pain, too. It’s really hard and painful 80% of the time and really good 20% of the time, but I truly believe that that 20% of the time is worth the really shitty 80% of the time.
I guess the point of this blog is really for me. I all too often forget that no matter how much weight I lost or how little I ate, I was never happy. I forget that the little moments are really wonderful. And I forget that honestly, staying sick isn’t an option.
Everyday, I write or text my friend 5 good things that have happened– from my coffee tasting delicious to finding out I’m graduating from day treatment and moving to IOP on Friday (!!!!) to my dog waking me up with kisses. And it might sound really really dumb, but those little things are what I’m living for- and they make life so worth living.