If I just...breathe

I feel like I've packed a week into the past 3 days. I've had so many appointments, work obligations, and errands to run. For the most part my appointments have gone really well. My doctor appointment on Monday that my therapist came with me too was really difficult, but it went well at the same time. I'm just glad it's over and hopefully I won't have to go back for another year (crosses fingers). It was just really scary and made everything that's happened to me a bigger reality than it already is. I honestly could not have gotten through that appointment without having my therapist there. She helped slow down my breathing before, during, and after the exam. She told me proud she was of me, and how much she felt honored that I asked her to come with me.

I saw my dietitian Monday night for the first time in a few weeks. It went really, really well. My dietitian was just so happy with how I've been doing and so excited. Even though I see her again in two weeks, I think I will be able to cut back to possible every 3 weeks. I know I'm still kind of fragile with recovery, and no, not everything is all better. But, I feel like I know what I need to do now and feel like I'm making healthy choices and following my hunger cues (which is HUGE for me!)
Before I committed to recovery this time around, every time I read someone's blog or Facebook status or a book about how great recovery felt to them and how much better life was, I rolled my eyes. Everyone just said the same thing about it. And I was so terrified of recovery. And honestly, I now understand what they were saying about recovery. And, it's going to continue to get better for me, which fills me with so much hope. People who didn't understand eating disorders always used to say to me, "You have to choose to live!" And I feel like I was making that choice, but I didn't know if I could actually do it. Recovery from an eating disorder is so much more than, breakfast, lunch and dinner and a snack, oh and weight gain supplements if you need them and healthy exercise. I mean, there are layers and layers to all of those things that no one could possibly understand if you didn't have an eating disorder.
I don't think I made the choice this time around to finally give recovery my all. I think it just naturally came when I started to be completely open in therapy. I think all the bottled up emotions and memories were released and I didn't have to pretend anymore. I didn't have to hide. But I do make the choice day in and day out to eat, even when I'm anxious or nauseous or upset about something. And I'm not perfect about it. I do have my slips still. But I cannot even begin to explain the huge weight I have felt lifted off of my shoulders.

I saw my therapist this morning. It was a tough appointment. We talked a lot about family dynamics, which is honestly my least favorite topic of all time. Anyway, I don't feel comfortable explaining all of it in my blog because I don't want to bash my family on the internet, but my therapist told me to read "The Dance of Anger".  I've already bought it and started reading it.

I'm excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow, mainly just the food part. Not too excited about spending time with family, but it is what it is.

I also saw my psychiatrist today. And I told him that I know this Winter is going to be really tough on me because of the weather, depression, and anniversaries. I said I just want to make it through this season without be hospitalized. He said that was a good goal. I really hope I can do it.

Just gotta survive until March, and then I can breathe again.

Tears.

So I'm sitting here, and it's raining and thundering outside (which always relaxes me) and I'm listening to Hillsong United (one of my favorite Christian music groups). I'm trying to fight off the tears that I feel coming. I shouldn't fight them off, I know. I just want to get through this blog post.

I had a really awesome and intense conversation over dinner tonight with my second mom. First, you should know that she is my favorite person in this world. Very loving, very caring, very supportive, very motherly. She has known me since the 7th grade. She's seen me through it all pretty much. Anyway, I hadn't seen her in about a month because she was on vacation. I was anxious and scared to tell her about my recent struggles. I know she loves me no matter what, but I was scared she would be disappointed or frustrated. She was neither of those things. She reacted as she always does, with love and concern, but also hope. I told her my worries about being a bad friend lately. My worries of bothering my friends, my dearest friends whom I met in treatment. Who understand things that no one else on this earth can understand. I told her how I have pulled away from them, and held back the truth, in fear of triggering them, scaring them, worrying them, and pushing them away. I have desperately wanted to talk to them, hug them, cry with them, but I feel I am not worthy. I would NEVER be mad at them or disappointed if they were struggling, but for some reason I feel like they have every right to be mad at me. My second mom talked about how I need them, I deserve their love, and she is sure they would love to be there for me. I started to cry. I started to cry because I started thinking of my girls (Erin, Michelle, and Ashley). How much I miss them. How much I need them. In that moment I wanted to call them and pour my heart out. My second mom reached across the table and held my hand for several minutes, with tears in her eyes as well. She said, "I see your pain, and I know you don't like seeing me cry, but I care about you and I KNOW your friends do too." I don't know if I would have been able to believe that had she not pointed it out. The rest of our conversation was so helpful and instilled so much hope and life into me. I came home and called my friend Michelle and left a voicemail. I am going to call the other two girls tomorrow night.

(and here come the tears...)

 Erin, if you read this....I'm so sorry I haven't been a good friend. You mean the world to me and I love you so much. I wish I could give you a hug right now.

I'm on Day 1 (again) of no purging. It was a battle. I was forced to restrict in order to not purge. I really want that cycle to end. I am going to talk about it with my treatment team in my appointments tomorrow.

I got a bunch of blood drawn on Monday per my psychiatrist because I have been having a lot of distressing symptoms. My psychiatrist emailed me the results tonight and told me I have low Vitamin D and anemia. Nothing terribly concerning, and nothing that can't be fixed without vitamins and a proper diet. But still scary none-the-less.

There's a lot of other stuff swirling around in my head, but I'm too drained to type it all out. And frankly, I want to work through some of it with my treatment team before posting about it.

But for now, I'm just taking it one day at a time.