It’s Been A Long Time.

I've been writing blog posts in my head all week, but when it comes to actually writing down my thoughts, failure & frustration ensue. So here is my last attempt at writing something literate.

Physically, I am father forward in recovery than I have ever been. Last week, I got over the 'scary' weight I had been avoiding for the entire year I was out of hospital. Last week, I crossed that line, and in doing so I slashed a huge hole in my emotional and mental stability. While everyone around me is proud, happy, elated – I am full of negative thoughts and feelings.

I read somewhere once that recovering from Anorexia is harder than being in Anorexia. It's the moving forward into the unknown, the uncomfortable, the ether otherwise known as life that scares the brain away from moving forward. Being in the throes of Anorexia is a comfort; everything is set out, everything is known, there's no uncertainty. It's a 'safe' place where everything stays the same and everything is seemingly in control. But when you take a step outside of that safety zone, that's when the hurt, the pain and the fear floods the mind, sending it into a downward spiral of negative energy and force.
While I am physically healing and strengthening, mentally I am sinking and weakening. Rationally, I know that this is because I am moving into an unknown place, and the disordered thoughts are trying with all their might to get me back into that safety bracket… But it's a hole. A bottomless hole of despair is not a hole that Eleanor wants to fall back down into. Eleanor wants to wake up in the morning, leap out of bed and smile at the dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Eleanor wants to eat when hungry, stop when full, not worry about how much or how little. Eleanor wants to live.

Being in an Eating Disorder will only lead Eleanor into the realm of Death. It will starve her of happiness, fulfilment, life.

The further along I get, the harder it becomes. There have been countless times where I've just wanted to give up and give in, because the way I know how to cope is 'easier'. That in itself is an unhealthy thought, and I have been trying with all my might to ignore those urges. I don't have any control over my food intake at the moment, which rationally I know is the only way things will improve. Give E.D. an inch and it will take it a mile, as the saying goes.
It's terrifying that these voices are so strong.

Yesterday I was talking to an ex boyfriend of mine about the things that go on inside my head. Externalising the Eating Disorder and viewing it from third person really helped to put things into perspective. Essentially, someone with an eating disorder is slowly killing themselves, existing basically on air and empty promises of happiness. The brain is constantly thinking of food because the body is so starved of it – take a candy away from a child and the child will kick and scream until it gets the candy back. Why would anyone do that to themselves? Stripping away the layers of happiness and joy in their life until they're left with the pieces of a broken body, soul, heart, mind and life? We become susceptible to the monsters that lie beneath the surface and turn to them as a way of putting meaning to a pitiful existence.
Seeing it without being a part of it makes me wonder how I got here in the first place, but also makes me want to be rid of it. That is my motivation. I don't want a pitiful existence. I don't want to die before I've done the things I want to do in life. I want to live happily, and to live happily I must first be physically able to. I need my health in order to live the life I want to live.

This post sounds somewhat positive, which surprised me as the only things in my life as of late have been viewed in a very negative light. But I'm not complaining.
The hard days will get harder, but the good days will get better.
And it will all be worth it in the end.