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.

Recovery Woes

 

 

So I had the appointment with the nutritionist, and it actually wasn't too terrible. It was only a half hour long, so there wasn't any in depth discussion, but she seems really supportive and willing to help me, which is a good sign. We didn't have enough time to discuss a meal plan, but we did outline a little mini guide of what to eat in the interim until I see her again. She agreed to let me stay vegan for now because it's what I'm most comfortable with, and our first goal is to just get me eating normally again.

If I'm honest, I thought that eating more wouldn't be that hard. I do truly like food, and I like trying new things. But the emotions that come with eating are pretty severe. This morning I was panicking over what to have for breakfast, so I had a glass of mango Naked instead. I packed some strawberries, chips, and guac for lunch, and it was hard. I eat in the guidance office so there's not a lot of people, but I only really felt comfortable eating the strawberries. The chips and guac were a bit too terrifying for me. Then after school I had a tiny snack bowl of peanut butter filled pretzels and a banana. It's a perfectly okay snack, especially since I didn't eat too much earlier in the day. I didn't have any trouble eating it, but afterwards I just felt awful. My stomach felt overly full and enormous, and I felt like I had gained 10 pounds and ruined any progress towards losing weight that I had. Looking back, it's a little bit disjointed. My reaction didn't really fit the amount of food I ate, but it was still quite difficult. Tonight I'm having a baked sweet potato topped with some rice and vegetables. I'm rather nervous, if I'm honest. I feel like I'm having so much food today, and it's hard to get used to.

Another not so good thing happened the other day. I relapsed and cut again. It was Wednesday night and I had just eaten a full meal. I couldn't cope. I didn't know what to do about all the food I had eaten, and I was so incredibly furious with myself. So I ruined my clean streak and self harmed. I'm disappointed in myself, and frustrated that it was caused by FOOD, something my body NEEDS. I've been struggling with self harm for well over a year now, and it's quite discouraging that I'm still relapsing after all this time.

I don't want to keep restricting, but I also don't really want to eat. I'm kind of stuck, in that regard. I know that restricting slows down your metabolism, and I'm scared that mine is too low and now the food I'm eating is giving me too much energy and causing more fat.

I dunno, I just really wish I could eat a meal (or even a snack) without any emotional trauma. It's really really frustrating. I've struggled with food for the past seven or so years, maybe more, and I am just so done with all of the mental pain it causes me. I just want to eat like a normal person, without there being any deep thinking or horrible consequences associated with it. So that's why I'm trying to recover, I suppose. But I still want to lose a lot of weight, and my mind is telling me that restricting is the way to go. It's such a constant battle in my mind, and it's quite exhausting.

Above is a picture of Thursday's breakfast, and below is Thursday's dinner. Have a lovely night, petals.