{major honesty hour, God, and real recovery}

I’ve been slacking.

I have been truthfully, honestly slacking. And even worse–I’ve been in denial about certain aspects of my recovery. I haven’t been honest with myself or others.

Today, that changes.

Last night I lie awake (shocker) after a day of doing homework, resting, hanging out with Jarrett, etc. We made stir-fry for dinner, and for dessert I had ice cream, hot chocolate, and chocolate chips. So, pretty normal, no?

As I lie awake in bed about two hours later, I started to feel my extreme hunger kick in.

*Oh, great.*

I (Ed, rather) wanted me to ignore it and continue lying awake (probably for the rest of the night as usual) thinking and being engulfed with anxiety.

Instead, I robotically went out into the kitchen and ate. And ate. And ate. I ate so many protein bars (I need to do some serious shopping) that I felt like I was going to puke.

Normally after honoring my extreme hunger (which I have come to accept as NOT bingeing– it is simply my emaciated body trying to make up for countless calories that it has not received in the past couple of years) I feel disgusted with myself. I vow to restrict the next day to compensate for my “out of control” behavior.

For some reason, last night it motivated me. I began making a list in my phone of various goals, positive aspects of recovery, coping mechanisms etc. I began making a grocery list for when I go shopping today of high-calorie foods that I haven’t dared to buy in years. I began developing a loose meal plan for myself–spread throughout the day rather than making up for calories at night and feeling sick. And I’m increasing my calories, because my body needs double what I have been giving it and despite being told this by treatment team I have carried on in my usual ways just because that was the amount others in recovery were gaining on.

I have a note in my phone now that reads: (Parentheses are my added comments)

*Talk to Jarrett* [this is about a specific thing I have been in denial about–not relevant atm]

-3000 cals a day minimum. No matter your appetite, body image, etc.

-No tummy checking. (Normally do this countless times every day. Needs to stop.)

-LIFE>ED

-embrace the bloat (the bloat is real)

-you are loved (reminder to myself that Jarrett will love me no matter what, as well as family & friends)

-you’ve suffered enough. (I’ve suffered more than I can adequately relay to you all.)

-screw abs (trying to beat this into my brain)

-you can run when you’re HEALTHY (running now will kill me.)

-more blogging positively (i can dig this one)

-you’re different than everyone else. (reminder to shut out any and all messages about diet/health/fitness from the media and those around me. Healthy for me is way different than healthy for him or her.)

-no more Ed lies. (When I lie to someone about an Ed behavior it is not Annie. Annie is honest; Ed is not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not held accountable for those lies. No more. None. Honesty hour every hour, yo.)

-no more stupid rules. (I CAN eat a big meal in the morning, I CAN eat more if I’m still hungry, I CAN eat randomly in the middle of the night if I wake up with a grumbly tummy, I CAN [and should, and will] eat more than those around me)

-Ed is a coping mechanism and it is the worst coping mechanism and form of control ever.

-counting calories only for the sole purpose of reaching my minimum.

-no looking up calorie content at restaurants until AFTER I have chosen what I truly want and eaten it.

-breakfast every day, no matter how gross I feel/how much I don’t want to/lack of hunger. (and lunch, and dinner, and everything in between.)

-you will die if you do not beat this.

-career. (reminder that no one wants to see an emaciated shell of a person giving the news every morning, and I won’t even have a career that I’ve worked so hard for if I’m dead.

-miniature Annies. (infertility=no kids. I WANT KIDS.)

-fat is not a feeling. (and weight redistribution takes T-I-M-E; relapse will only delay the process)

-get your butt back.

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I’m sick of being stuck between relapse and recovery, and I need to do this NOW or I will die. I cannot sell myself short of the progress I have made in the past few months, but all along I have known it wasn’t enough–not near enough. Not enough to fully recover.

Honesty hour: Lately I can feel myself dying. I don’t quite know how to explain it…I know it sounds drastic…but it’s the only way I know how to explain the feeling. It’s like an immeasurable feeling of impending doom. My heart rate is so low that it almost doesn’t beat. My veins constantly protrude out of my skin; my hip bones and tailbone are constantly bruised and protruding as well. I get hazy and disoriented randomly, I don’t sleep at night, I’m either sweating or frozen, I cannot focus in class or at all, and at times I feel like I’m not even human. I’m not present; I’m not living.

I’m sure many of you are not religious so you may scoff at what I am about to say, but I want to share something with you.

Last night after my protein bar and peanut butter party, as I lie sugar-comatose on the couch frantically creating notes in my phone, {I am such a freak} I had a very special moment.

A few minutes prior I had prayed to my Heavenly Father that the motivation I was feeling at that very moment would stick around long enough for me to make progress and heal my brain. I wasn’t asking for a miracle; I just knew that my brain, in its current state, is so far from rational and healthy…so far from being able to make healthy decisions, that I physically can’t do this without being force tube fed. I prayed for help doing what I need to do until I physically can have the rational ability to make the choice every single day to do this for my life and future.

Anyway, I was in the middle of creating the list that I shared earlier in this post. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge..no, it wasn’t even an urge…I really didn’t consciously choose to do this…it just happened. I pressed the lock button on my phone and closed my eyes. I heard, loud and clear, a voice telling me that I would be carried if I try as much as I am able. I heard the voice tell me that I would have died tomorrow (today) had I not made this decision.

I know that half of you will think I am crazy, lying, or just insane. (Arguably, I am two of those three…but I’m not lying.)

I have been neglecting what I now realize is going to be a star player in my recovery–God. He is the one that will help me the most in these beginning stages when I am not physically or mentally strong enough to do what needs to be done. And I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful that he carried me out of bed last night and in to the kitchen. I’m grateful that he momentarily healed my brain enough to rationally see what I have done and what needs to be done. I’m grateful that I will not die today because of it.

I have had about four moments since developing my ED that I have decided, “Okay, starting today I will recover FOR GOOD!” One of those moments I shared with you all when I revealed my “secret” …but never have I had a real, true action plan…never challenged my Ed rules, never set attainable goals…never really gave it my all.

I have been blessed with a second chance, and I will not require a third. I know fully what will happen if I do not get my butt (building of said butt is in progress, btw) in gear and do what NEEDS to be done, I will die. The harsh reality that I have known all along but denied all the same.

I apologize for the length and intensity of this post, but I think I needed to do this now (at 7:30 on a Monday morning? Who the heck am I) to ensure that if I am ever struggling I can read it and remember last night’s experience. Remember to look at my list, remember the big picture, and rediscover myself.

I have realized that, in trying to get my “old self” back, I am finding it rather difficult. This is because it has now been almost three years since developing my ED, and I am much different than I was before. Instead, I will recreate myself. I will be who I want to be…I will be the caring, hardworking, funny, friendly, healthy version of myself.

If you made it to the end of this post, go eat a cookie. Or a bagel. I’m actually about to go eat a bagel despite my full tummy. Cheers.

{a.m.}