I have a confession and it is humilating to even admit this but I am relapsing. My eating disorder is slowly beginning to go out of control and has found it’s way back into ruling my life. I am so disappointed in myself, I was supposed to be the recovery super woman. I was supposed to beat the statistics and live a life that people looked up to. I am so ashamed of myself.
Before I came back to school, my therapists at Renfrew told me the first thing I had to do was contact the eating disorder treatment team and schedule appointments asap. I contacted them and never followed through with the appointments because I thought I didn’t need them. I thought I could do this alone and I was too good for a meal plan. When it comes to my friends relapses, I always push going back to treatment. It scares me how deadly this disease is and how many of my recovery family is now facing death. I really never thought I would be one of them again.
There is a saying I learned at Remuda that has haunted me since my lapses has built up to a relapse. If you’re not recovering from your eating disorder, you’re dying from it. I figured that didn’t apply to me. I was invicible, I could starve myself and my body would be fine. But lately all the physical symptoms of my eating disorder have returned. Dizziness, numbness in my fingers, the shakes and heart problems are now a part of my daily life and it’s terrifying. These past few nights I have woken up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding because my body was so hungry. I have been taken to the ER before for my heart problems that my eating disorder has caused and I don’t ever want to do that again. Who would I tell? There is a part of me that would rather die than ask someone to take me to the hospitial. How do I tell these faces of people that are so proud of me that I am slowly dying again? I worked so hard to be healthy and I have thrown it away.
Like I said yesterday, I refuse to let myself get to where I was a year ago. I dont want me to be so out of control when I realize I have a problem again. I dont want my only option for treatment to be inpatient again. I look around my apartment in tears because with the way I am going, I have a chance to lose it once again and this time I know that I will never get it back.
So I have made the decision to once again get treatment. It’s hard to admit but I know I have a problem and I need help beyond just a therapist. Don’t fret, I am not booking a plane ticket and packing my bags just yet. I’m staying in school. I am setting up my own IOP with my school. I am going to have a meal plan, treatment goals, and weigh ins. I am scared to see my weight because I know my body well enough to tell that within the past 2 or 3 weeks the number on the scale has decreased. I will have a meal plan, I will have to gain weight and I will have to let go of the control and give it to my treatment team.
I hate asking for help. I hate that I am not the super woman that I wanted to be. This is something I need to do even though my eating disorder wants me to believe that I am not sick enough for IOP, I have to trust that I have a problem, it’s getting out of control and I need help. There were moments in my recovery where I felt true happiness and I am willing to fight for anything to get that feeling of peace back. I can do this, it’s just going to take a few more people on my team. I refuse to stop fighting.
Send me good vibes tomorrow for my first weigh in. I really need it.