Careening Down

When I was in residential treatment, I was expected to follow strict rules. Everyone was expected to follow them. Everyone’s recovery was supposed to move along pretty much the same path. Everyone was seen in view of their disorders, not as unique original people. In-patient treatment did save my life. I will not go into details, but it did curtail my most dangerous behaviors. And for that I am grateful but I do not look back on it as a positive time in my life. I have not made a secret of my current summer struggles. The last month hasn’t been easy. The subject of residential treatment has been brought up again. But, instead of focusing on the negatives today, I am going to try to count my blessings! I am THANKFUL to be home and recovering amongst the people I love most and who love me for me. I am especially THANKFUL for my “treatment-without-walls” team. I am still in intense treatment, but now I meet with professionals that I have chosen. People who “get” me and my needs. E...

  There are a million, billion conflicting thoughts swirling around in my brain….maybe even more than usual. I am constantly at war with my eating disorder and with rationality. I am allowing myself to “play with fire”. And I know it. I am inviting that slippery slide of too much exercise back into my life and I know where it can lead. And yet—I don’t really want to fight it or stop it. At the same time, that I do. This is what crazy is! This is what mental illness has done to me. I can want what is right and best. I can undoubtedly know what is right and best. And I can feel better about not choosing the right path. All at once. In the moment, exercise seems like a good choice. Though I know it is a dangerous, stupid choice. As I face food, restriction is safest and most comfortable. Even while I am fully aware that starving myself is neither safe nor comfortable in the long run.   I can hear God’s call. I can assuredly know His will for me. I can desperately want to ...

  Time is against me. As in, too much time on my hands works against my recovery, maybe more than anything else in the world. Too much time means lots of opportunities to exercise. Too much time means time to think and to agonize, overanalyze, worry. It’s not good. What keeps me on track with my healing and stability is keeping busy. I make sure there is little to no idle time in my day-to-day life. And I make sure the things I do are productive, or at least, feel productive. When I was in residential treatment, they purposely gave us lots of down time. It drove me crazy (I mean, yes, I was there because I was “crazy” already, but doing nothing made me crazier!!!!). They said we needed to learn to just “be.” I, especially, needed to re-learn how to rest, sit, relax. I guess, I did not stay in the treatment center long enough to benefit from all that downtime. I came home and totally resumed my former pace. Busy, busy, busy all the time! Moving every minute of the day! Dur...