When I started this blog, I envisioned it as a way to finally be authentic and vulnerable, two things that I had been struggling with. I saw it as a way to share my story in hopes of giving a voice to the voiceless and to encourage others to be courageous with their story. Each week, I do a quick little self-assessment to decide if I’m still on the right track. As someone who is incredibly hard on herself, self-assessments are a bit dangerous. No matter what, I feel like I’m always falling short.
My goal was to be honest with this blog, some weeks I feel like I sugar-coat things too much. My goal was to say meaningful things, some weeks I feel like my words carry no weight. My goal was to share with as many people as possible, some weeks I get really disappointed with the lack of readers. My goal was to someday turn these words into a book, most weeks I feel as if that is impossible. Therefore, when I let these negative thoughts envelop me, I get really discouraged. I feel as though what I’m doing is not worth it.
I was posed the question this past week, “Are you really being honest with your blog?” At first, this question made me defensive. Of course I’m being honest! But as I reflected on it, I realized that I was defensive because there was something to that question after all. No, I’m not being dishonest. All the thoughts I share here are genuine. As the people pleaser I am though, I tend to cloak my insecurities and fears and doubts in hopeful cliches, most of the time trying to talk myself into my words just as much as I’m trying to talk you into them. You see, in an effort to be positive, I’ve sacrificed some authenticity. Sometimes, life is hard. Sometimes, life kinda sucks. And I have to remember that it’s ok to admit that. There’s a fine line between being positive and uplifting without sacrificing truth and vulnerability, and I’ve been having a hard time finding the right place between those two things. As with everything it seems lately, I’m relearning how to interact with this world, and this challenge on my blog is one more obstacle that I get to try and figure out.
So my goal this week and in the coming weeks is to sugarcoat things less and be more real. My goal is to be honest with the good and the bad, and to give you an accurate update on me and my life.
As most of you know, I returned to treatment this summer for help with my eating disorder. It wasn’t something that I planned, and it was hard to admit that I needed help again. As a perfectionist, I felt like one time should have been enough and felt like a failure. Looking back at it now, I see it very differently. I can now see it as a brave, wise decision, one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. In any case, I spent the summer in Arizona getting a “tune-up” on my skills, and have now been back home for around 3 months.
Being in recovery from an eating disorder is very difficult. Although they try to prepare you for “real life” when you’re in treatment, it is still quite a shock to be dumped back into your everyday life after living in a bubble for 45-60 days. I wrote about that a few months ago HERE. Reacclimating back to my life has been challenging. People think that you should be able to slip back into your life and everything goes back to normal. However, you can’t go back to “normal.” Normal for me was unhealthy and sick. So instead of everything going back to normal, I’ve had to create a new normal.
I realize that my new normal is pretty different than most people’s “normals.” Although I can rationally understand why, I still struggle with wanting to be like everyone else and having a “normal” schedule. Whatever that is. I also know that my current normal isn’t for forever, but at the same time, it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when no one can tell me when that light will come. My treatment team tells me that I’m doing everything I need to do, but no one can tell me for how long. It’s good practice for my need for control, but very frustrating at the same time.
I understand now that my daily life and schedule is built around my recovery. In treatment, they always say that you need to put your recovery first. I always kind of rolled my eyes at that, never truly believing it. I had more important things to put first in my life, like my family and my job and my friends. But I soon found out that they were right. It was integral that I maintain my recovery so that I could be the person that I wanted to be for my family, friends, coworkers, and students. It finally clicked for me that if I wasn’t taking care of myself, I couldn’t take care of anyone else. Therefore, putting my recovery first was what I needed to do to transform into the person that I aspire to be.
Putting recovery first, for me where I’m at right now, looks very rigid. It looks like a lot of driving in my car and lots of communication with my treatment team. One week of staying in recovery for me looks like an appointment with my eating disorder therapist, an appointment with my regular therapist, a support group for people with eating disorders, Skyping with my dietitian, and a nurse’s appointment each Friday before work to get weighed. It looks like meal planning, packing lunches and snacks with my correct exchanges, and planning ahead. It looks like regimented schedules, including planning specific nights I will spend time with people or go out to eat or eat dessert. It looks like reaching out to my people for support and advice and affirmation.
I know that I need all these things right now to help me stay accountable, but at the same time, I can’t help but to feel like I have no life other than driving back and forth from Des Moines and little human interaction outside of work and my treatment team. Let me tell you, this recovery thing is WAY HARDER than being in my eating disorder and that’s what a lot of people don’t understand if they haven’t experienced it. Getting into recovery from whatever addiction or mental health condition you’ve had, although it is good for you and your health, is a lot harder than acting on your impulses and staying numb. Getting into recovery and STAYING in recovery is incredibly difficult, and a choice that you have to make every moment of every day.
There are times where I feel really discouraged and can’t see the big picture. There are days that I don’t feel like spending my whole night driving to and from Des Moines, especially after a long day of teaching. There are days that I feel very isolated and that I have no friends. There are times where I get really frustrated when eating lunch with my coworkers is one of the hardest things I have to do, and then get mad at myself for not being “normal.” There are days that I feel like this rigid schedule will never end, that I will always be different and will never have the life that I’ve imagined for myself.
Thankfully, there are also days where I feel encouraged and can see the progress that I’m making. There are moments where I feel ok and even content. Every once and awhile, I realize that my decisions and hard work now are paving the way for a better, healthier, fuller life for myself. When these positive moments and thoughts come around, I try and be thankful for them and hold on to them as much as possible because I never know when they’re going to come around again.
Lately I’ve felt really misunderstood and very unseen. I’ve been frustrated that no one seems to know or understand or acknowledge everything that it’s taking for me to stay in recovery right now. This is the piece of me that craves positive affirmation from the people around me about what I’m doing. Although I like to connect with people and for people to truly see me, I also realize that the road that I’m traveling sometimes has to be traveled alone. I have great supporters, but I’m the only one that can continue to commit every minute of every day to my recovery and my overall health and wellness. People can cheer me on, support me, affirm me, and pick me up when I fall, but I’m the one that has to continue to work hard and follow through my weekly routine until the light at the end of the tunnel draws nearer.
In saying that though, contrary to popular belief, I will never be completely ‘out of the woods’ when it comes to my eating disorder. I will have to always be on guard for the rest of my life, ready to catch it and squash it as soon as that ED voice pops back into my thoughts. That thought may be daunting, but the farther along as I get into recovery, the more confident I am that I will continue to be strong enough to scare that ED monster away if and when it decides to haunt me in the future.
This new normal may be hard and frustrating, but it is starting to allow me to live my life to the fullest again. To be truly present for not only myself, but for the people that I care about. This new recovery life is difficult at times and always exhausting, but the more I get a taste of what freedom feels like, the more I know that I never, ever want to go back. There may be moments where I forget the “why,” but I’m lucky to have people to remind me when I forget. As Gary Allan says, “Life ain’t always beautiful, but it’s a beautiful ride” and I’m so thankful that I get to continue on this ride with all of you. 💜
I read your writing, including this one, with admiration and deep care for your willingness to share in this way.It takes courage to share your stories and especially those that share your pain and vulnerability. You are indeed a beloved child of God and we are blessed to have you among us.