Resisting Relapse

I'm really confused.
So for the past week and a half I've been doing really well. And I mean really well. I've been following my meal plan exactly, I haven't been restricting, I haven't been self harming-- I haven't really used any negative problem behaviors. In fact, I've been happy. Truly. I've been experiencing happiness in myself for the first time in years. There have even been moments where I'm starting to feel comfortable in my own skin. Not very comfortable, but glimpses of comfort. I've been working so hard to kick my disorders to the curb, and I've been succeeding. And that truly makes me very happy.

Yet despite all of that, despite the positivity, the joy, the good progress -- I have an urge to relapse. And I mean really relapse - restricting, self harming, everything. It's like my body wants me to collapse, to fall back down, to let misery and disordered thinking take over. But why? Like I said before, things have been nothing but positive lately. So why do I have this desire to destroy everything.

I think it's because I'm so used to the darkness. The light is beautiful, but it hurts my eyes at the moment. It's unnatural to me, it's not normal. My normal is destructive - it's depression, panic attacks, self loathing, nonstop doctor's appointments, hospital visits, relapse, pain. So as this happiness starts to sneak its way into my life, my illnesses, the disordered thinking, the darkness -- it's dying. And it's fighting to try and get its way. It's telling me I haven't suffered enough, that I don't deserve to be happy. It's trying to convince me that if I just collapse, just have one more relapse, then things will be better. It's like I have this weird concept in my brain that I have to suffer a certain amount before I can ever experience true happiness. Especially with my eating disorder. My mind keeps telling me that I'm faking, that I don't truly have an eating disorder, that I haven't experienced enough pain to recover. It shames me for never being underweight and never being sent to an eating disorder residential -- never mind the fact that I've been been in so much pain because of my ed since I was nine years old. It doesn't care that I've spent every pool party wanting to cry, that I've never looked in the mirror and felt happy, that I feel horribly guilty whenever I feel too full - my eating disorder mind doesn't care about all that. It just wants me to lose weight, to obsess over food, and to feel miserable. It wants me hospitalized with a tube up my nose, and there's a sick part of me that agrees with it. That believes that that's my fate, that that's where I deserve to be. And if I'm honest, it's hard to find a part of myself that disagrees. It's hard, because still, after all my hard work, deep down, I don't feel worthy. I don't feel like I'm enough, I don't feel like I deserve love. But I need to tell that part of me to go to hell, because someday I will love myself. Someday I will accept love from others without wondering what's wrong with them. Someday I'll go to a beach without feeling like I want to cry. Someday I'll get upset without automatically wanting to restrict or self harm.

I believe that I will be in recovery for the rest of my life, but I also believe that I can win. That I can learn how to live with my disorders and still be happy. That I can start to realize that not every thought that crosses my mind is law. Someday my distorted thinking will call my name, and I'll ignore it.

And in order to do that, I can't relapse. I need to keep fighting. I can't give in and go back to the darkness, no matter how sickly "comfortable" it is. I need to let those thoughts pass through my mind, and then kindly stick it up my disorder's ass. Because I'm not okay with the idea of me being an adult and still suffering. I want to recover, and I want to be happy. So it's time to take the initiative, and keep going. Sure, part of me wants to restrict, and wants to self harm. But part of me doesn't. And it's time to start listening to the latter.