I wake up feeling rested. My sleeping has improved quite a bit. I have my cup of Joe, but don’t feel like eating yet. I start getting ready, brushing my hair. I “body-check” my back. Ed screams, “Back rolls! You’ve got back rolls, you’ve NEVER had back rolls!” I panic. I lose it just a tad. I rush upstairs to my sister and declare- Give me my scale back, I chose to give it to you, now I choose to get it back. She calmly responds with- no. I look in the storage room, nope, it’s not here. I was sure it was here! I tell my sister- Fine! If you don’t give it back to me I’ll just go buy a new one & it’ll be a waste of $.
We’re driving to my mom’s house. Lots of food. Big family social. First thing first- I ascend up to my mom’s bathroom. Undress and step on the white, square, guessing game. Last time I’d seen my weight, it was 10lbs higher than my lowest. Today- I see 33lbs more than my lowest. It doesn’t bother me as much as I expected it would- I figure with how I look it matches. Perhaps, a little part of me is shocked though, to see #s there that I haven’t seen in nearly 4 yrs.
Downstairs I go. Plop on the couch. Don’t want to talk. So many thoughts are running through my mind. I didn’t have breakfast. I don’t have lunch. When I can’t take it being around everyone anymore, I go sit by myself on the steps. My momma comes over. It’s typically hard for me to connect with her, but today she is just hugging me. I start to cry. She is trying to reassure me. She tells me I’m beautiful. She tells me to stay.
I go home with my sister, my faithful supporter. I cry in the car for about another hour while she and her husband talk to me. My eyes hurt even now, as I’m writing, after that meltdown. After much encouragement and logical explanations I sit down to eat. I decide to call this an “ED Attack.” So overwhelming, semi-life threatening, pretty horrible and coming out of nowhere. So what motivates me to keep going?
To be a recovery success story. To accept myself and teach others to do the same. To talk about the white elephant in nearly every person’s life- Lack of Acceptance. I like to be bold. I like to be courageous. I like to call things out as they are. Recovery is hard, but I’m never going through this process again. Day by day, I’ll choose to fight on.