I am a perfectionist. Months ago it was to be perfect at my eating disorder and lately it has been perfect at recovery. In both mindsets, I did reach out to people but within both I also had walls. I would tell you maybe an inch of what I am struggling with but at the same time hidden behind the wall was a whole damn highway of the lies I had hidden. I told people I struggled with an eating disorder but I wanted it to look perfect. Some would know but few bits and pieces but my main goal was to be thin. And it wasn’t enough. The day I decided that my eating disorder was more important than what others had thought of me was the day that my life truly spiraled out of control. Long story short I went to treatment and there I found women who were motivated.
Being around those who are motivated is nice, great actually. Even now I try to stay around those who like smiles above frowns. But the motivation I found was a twisted kind of motivation. I remember within my first week of two in remuda there was a rumor that one of my suite mates had purged. To this day, nobody truly knows who I was but somehow the purging got pinpointed on me. Which for the record, it wasn’t. But I remember the group where people blamed me, and looked at me like I was some sort of outcast. Maybe I am just crazy, but you would think that if someone purged you wouldnt give them words of anger but of support. That’s when my perfection found it’s new host. Recovery.
(Just as a side note, the women that I met at Remuda Ranch were truly the most incredible women that I have ever met. In no way I am saying that they did this to me or anything. Just an experience)
I felt as though I couldn’t slip up and if I did, don’t say too much because then I’d get the same reaction as I did at first. You can struggle, but not too much. I told myself I had to be good at this, I had to recover. And as the days pass from my time at remuda my sea of people who wanted recovery has gotten down to a small puddle. I saw one by one as all of my best friends from Remuda fall back into their disorders. And then I slowly watched some of my Renfrew friends fall back like this was some sort of plague.
I was alone. This pain cuts so much deeper than the loneliness of my eating disorder. My eating disorder made me feel like nobody understood me. My friends who have eating disorders who are struggling understand me but I have to distance myself because I can’t be around that. I created this puddle and it fucking sucks.
This pushed my perfectionist nature in my recovery further. I began isolating, purging and the suicidal thoughts came it. I suck at my eating disorder and I suck at recovery. If I can’t do any of these right what the hell can I do? I have spent the past few nights taking the wrath of my mind, telling me how horrible I am, how there will soon be a time where the world sees what I truly am, a pathetic, shallow and ugly girl.
I am struggling.
I can tell you with honesty that I am not fully relapsing but I am engaging in behaviors. My mind is settling. Purging every once and awhile but not going into other behaviors. Like a trade of sorts. I don’t know what to do nor does my team. On one hand, I have been in treatment for a combined 7 months so what else can I get out of this but on the other I still need treatment.
What’s frustrating is at the beginning you are praised for only engaging in behaviors a few times a week so I got used to that. I can struggle a bit but still be in recovery. And that’s what my perfect recovery looked like, still being able to purge here and there but for the most part, having positive thinking.
I don’t want to lose weight, I don’t really think I’m fat but there is that high from my eating disorder is convincing me to continue what I have going.
So here I am perplexed and lonely.