The Truth

I am not okay. That’s very hard for me to write. As some of you know I have a hard time ever asking for help, or admitting that something’s wrong which is not a good trait and ends with me in the place I am in right now. I am restricting again, okay that’s kind of a lie, I am skipping entire meals and going days without eating again. It’s only been the past couple of weeks but it’s terrifying me. I’m so used to being the girl that everyone comes to for help or advice, the girl that people look up to, so it’s hard to admit that I’m the one that may need others. The past couple of months I’ve gotten so caught up in taking care of everyone else’s problems and ignoring my own emotions that it’s begun to come out in my food. I am horribly ashamed to say this, I’ve always thought I’m over this; I’ve worked through it and should never struggle with it again. A good friend reminded me that this is something I had to fight for in hospitals for six years and it’s not something that will ever go away, and I know she’s right but I guess I just have different standards for myself. I tell myself I should never struggle, I should always have a smile on my face and be positive, and not break down or cry. I feel like I was such a sponge off of my loved ones back when I was at my sickest and I don’t ever want to go back to feeling needy, but I guess I’m going to have to learn to find a middle ground. I don’t want to continue withering away with a fake smile on my face attempting to convince others I’m fine until I become medically compromised again, and I don’t think my body can handle me putting it through this one more time. I don’t want to continue going down this path but I’m scared to ask for help, I’m scared to admit I need others help, and I’m scared of not feeling numb anymore. So this is why I’m writing this, when I started this blog I promised I’d be honest with y’all about my journey of recovery and I’ve come to accept this is part of my journey, but it doesn’t mean a relapse and negate anything I’ve done in the past few years. I am determined to keep my head up and keep going because I refuse to be defeated by this horrible disease.

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fall.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Breathe In, Breathe Out

I need to start doing better about this blogging thing. The reason I haven’t written is because I tell myself if I don’t have anything happy and uplifting to write I shouldn’t write anything because then people will be disappointed in me. So rather than allowing myself to write about what’s really been going on I’ve been bottling it all up, stuffing it way down in my gut, and forcing a fake smile on my face. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you all how well that plan has worked for me.

I guess it all started a few weeks ago. I of course got sick again and had to go back to my second home, urgent care. Now before I go on I should tell you that I haven’t known my weight in over two and a half years. I’m fine with my body but the number completely effs with my head. Well I get on the scale backwards at urgent care and the nurse says it out loud after I explicitly tell her not to. Now for a normal person who hasn’t spent 6 years of her life in a hospital because she almost starved herself to death this would be fine, but for me this was huge. After the Dr. wrote me my prescription I got in my car and had the most epic breakdown I’ve probably had in years. I’m talking ugly cry, calling my dad and telling him I’m going to lose 30 pounds, and locking myself in my room. After about half an hour of this I came to my senses. Kelly, you have spent 6 years of your life in treatment centers, have almost died countless times and are finally living a happy and fulfilling life? Yet somehow knowing that number makes me want to go back to it all. And it’s not that I even hate my body anymore at all, yet something so small makes me want to go back to having a feeding tube up my nose. Craziness. So you know what I did? I let myself finish crying, and went to dinner with one of my friends. Because when you look at the big picture, yes I can be upset and it can trigger me but I’m not going to let myself go back to it all after I’ve worked this hard, I am worth more than a number. At first I didn’t want to tell anyone about this incident, then I realized I needed to share this, because being in recovery doesn’t mean never freaking out about things, it only means learning to handle them in a non destructive way.

Other than that I’ve been getting stressed out with school and extra curricular stuff, and also finding out that old friends are struggling again which upsets me more than anything. But every time something gets to me I just tell myself I can handle it all, and I shouldn’t be upset or cry. I am in recovery now, which means life should be great, nothing should stress me out, and I should be a support for everyone. That’s completely rational right? It seems so silly writing this now but it’s a belief that is rooted so deeply within me that I need to remind myself isn’t true. Life isn’t perfect, I’m going to have bad days, people are going to hurt me, but I can experience it, learn from it, and move on.

I’m so thankful I have wonderful friends who can remind me at times like these and encourage me. When I look back at these past few weeks, I have had a lot of wonderful things happen to me as well. I’ve reconnected with a few old friends who have gone on to live happy lives free from their disease, I’ve been asked to speak to a college class and share my story, I got to walk in the National Eating Disorder Awareness Week walk with friends in recovery, I’ve gotten to know new sorority sisters and bond with old ones. Overall, life is amazing and I'm so blessed to be celebrating my two years of no symptoms next month, and be getting to live my life and experience new things every day.
I guess the moral of the story is I don’t have to keep up a perfect appearance all the time to be an inspiration to people or to be a leader. People don’t look up to people who are fake or pretend to have it all together, they want to be friends with people who are real. So that is what I’m going to continue to try and be.

A good friend from one of my treatment centers gave me this quote one time when I was struggling with this concept years ago. And it could not be put any more perfectly

“It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." – the velveteen rabbit