The most valuable lesson I’ve taken away from recovery is to never apologize for showing feeling because it only means you’re apologizing for the truth. Learning to speak my mind was the greatest gift recovery gave me. I am a much happier person for it.
Sometimes I just want to say, FUCK THE TRUTH, and let it fester away and die.
It is hard for me to admit that I need other people, as well as their support and love. It’s terrible to need. I hate it. Somedays it’s hard to no longer live in a body sheathed with the ironclad armor of an eating disorder. Empty is strong and invincible. When I feel overwhelmed and vulnerable, it’s a tempting to retreat back into its’ shell… I miss the days when my eating disorder and depression were secrets. I know it seems a bit contradictory to have a public blog dedicated to my recovery and struggles when at times I feel crippled by shame and loathing and guilt, but I know deep down it’s too late to go back. I can’t hide this part of me, and even if I could, I shouldn’t. One of the reasons I started this blog was to accept that. Secrecy feeds eating disorders.
It’s lonely when such a big part of your life is secret to your friends… but sometimes I wish I was strong enough to be alone, than risk losing more people I care about or infecting them with this disease that is so damn hard to understand.