6 months ago, if I had been out an event or party of some sort, I can tell you without a doubt that I would have eaten something, beaten myself up about it and hurried home first thing so as to rid myself of the food. I would panic if I couldn’t. Think of the panic you might feel if you were being attacked by a 5 metre shark. Or if you’re the clever type, failing your first ever exam. Or being chased by six balaclava clad men carrying torches, closely followed by a dragon freakishly similar to the one in Shrek. It’s sorta like that.
I’m rambling because I’m tired. And I just finished watching Shrek.
I think I should probably get to the point. Eating disorders ruin the social life. You decide to go out with friends. You take photos at the beach. You eat hot chips for afternoon tea. You laugh and be joyful and get home, only to hop in the shower and get rid of what you’d consumed. You go to a 19th. You eat almost the whole bowl of lollies. You panic. You lie and say you have to get home for a Skype date. Same deal. You have afternoon tea for your birthday and eat a piece of creamy chocolate cake. Make an excuse to get out of there. You drive to the beach, sobbing all the way there about what you’re about to do – you don’t want to, but you need to or else (somehow) your weight will change significantly overnight. You purge in a public toilet and cry the whole way home.
It’s irrational, I know. Unpleasant, to say the very least. But it’s the eating disordered life.
I’m so thankful to be past that.
Yesterday, I had afternoon tea with S & B – and it was cool. Maybe a little awkies ’cause it’s been a long while but mostly wonderful. We had coffees and ordered more food than was necessary and talked for a really long time about their European adventures and next year and just generally exclaimed at random intervals how strange it was to be in each others presence (like I said – it’s been a long time!) Then we stood in the car park in the drizzle and talked some more and made future plans for Thai and cheese nights and more catch ups! (and L and C and H to also be there!)
I cannot wait to be better. I cannot wait until I can say “I’m recovered from an eating disorder” not “I’m recovering from an eating disorder”. I think I’m almost there. I’ve had plenty of bad days, but good days too. The recovery path isn’t a steady climb upwards – it’s all over the place! My dietitian took the time to remind me of this lovely fact the other day. So I will not expect great things from myself, but I will dare to challenge myself – because “recovered” relies on the motivation to change.
Heating heat wheats. Sweet slumber awaits.