A Few Decembers Ago

about three years ago today i started having chest pain, shortness of breath, irregular heart rhythms, and my hair falling out.

December 14th, 2020 I was diagnosed with anorexia that had been an ongoing battle since the ripe age of 13.

December 17th, 2020 I was in the hospital while doctors were monitoring my heart.

I remember it like it was yesterday. - and even though I am healthier now, sometimes I swear I can even still feel it.

Recovery didn’t start when my parents found out, or when my friends starting asking questions. Recovery probably didn’t really start til months after.

I still remember skipping meals and starving my body after it all came out, and after the hospital and doctors trips, and after the medication and therapy started.

I look at myself from back then and I look at myself now and I can see “how far I’ve come,” but with that I still feel so much guilt of how much weight I’ve gained.

It’s funny how opposite “how far I’ve come” and “how much I’ve let myself go” mean two completely different things in recovery, yet I still feel them both.

I often hate this body. I hate when people see me with the lights on. I hate the bloating after i eat. I hate the eating.

I often hated my old body too though. I hated people seeing me with the lights on. The bloating after id eat. The eating part.   

My jeans are a lot bigger now, and a lot of my old clothes don’t fit into the body I’ve outgrown.

There are ups and there are downs, milestones reached and milestones lost. I know I hate my body more now, but I do think I like the person I am now better than the one who barely became a fraction of what she could’ve been all those years ago.

It is weird to remember all the bad that came that year, to reminisce on what I could’ve looked like, who I could’ve been. - but I do remind myself of the life I have now. The life that i truly do love, the life I wouldn’t have had if I wouldn’t have seeked treatment.

—- that is the beautiful thing. All of the times where I was really starving are now in the distance and are “what ifs.”

I get to remind myself that the what ifs are the parts of my life that would’ve made me sicker, weaker, and now I get to live a life focused on living.

Everytime we think “what if I was skinnier” when battling disordered eating, we also need to remind ourselves of the “well what if it killed me….”

I choose recovery because I love this life. I love these people. And I really am learning to love me.

I choose recovery because maybe one day I won’t be so scared when the lights are on.

I’m thinking of you all today, I am praying for your peace of mind and nourishment. I am praying for healing hearts and for someone to love you in all your stages and “sizes” of life.

Love Always,

R