There comes a time in life when you have to make a decision that will determine how the rest of your life will be. And this ultimate “decision moment” doesn’t happen just once. Like, “Oh, I made the BIG decision and now life will be easy-peasy and everything will be eternally wonderful.”
While that would be nice in some ways, that’s just not how it works.
The reality is that everybody comes to a lot of these “decision moments” in life. The ones that make you sit back and contemplate where your life is going and where you want it to be going (in my experience, there is usually a difference between the two).
The point of all my rambling about life’s decisions and complexities is simply to say that I am at one of those ultimate decision moments right now. And I’m scared.
I’m talking about palm sweating, heart racing, mind going insane kind of scared. The “I have no idea what to do because no matter what I do, it’s gonna be horrible” scared.
By now, you are probably wondering what the heck I am talking about and my online English graders are probably sadly shaking their heads because I am rambling instead of just getting to the point.
What my decision boils down to is this: Stay in quasi-recovery or go all the way, into the frightening territory of RECOVERY (no quasiness allowed). And then, there is the third choice, one that is equally frightening but at times, strangely inviting: Relapse.
So there it is.
On one hand, I could probably survive in quasi recovery for the rest of my life.
On the other hand, deep down inside, I don’t want to just survive. I want to LIVE. I want to FLOURISH.
And looming in the background of it all is that dark monster called Relapse, waiting for a chance to grab a hold of me and reel me back in, into the depths of the eating disorder that I both love and hate, sometimes both at the same time.
Yeah, talk about conflicting emotions.
A lot of events have led to the realization that I need to choose. I can’t just keep doing what I’m doing because it ain’t working.
The thing is, I don’t even know what recovery means. What is recovery? God, that’s a whole ‘nother post.
But whatever it is, I’m embracing it. I’m doing what I know I have to do as of right now and that will have to be good enough.
So I am officially declaring to the world (the WordPress world, at least) that I choose to pursue recovery. I choose to pursue freedom. I choose to f**king live (sorry, but that sure did feel good…) Right now, in this moment, recovery means:
-Following my meal card 100% (which is a whole lot easier said than done but I can and WILL do it).
-Going to therapist appointments (although I don’t like my therapist all that much, she’s the resource I have at the moment so I will try to get as much out of every session as possible).
-Pursuing other hobbies that got left behind, even in these past few months (yes, I am talking about you dear blog, among other things).
-No measuring food, counting calories, or any other disordered behaviors.
-Being honest with my family about what I’m feeling (which is so hard. So. Hard.)
-Challenging myself at least a few times a week (and if I don’t feel up to a challenge, being gentle with myself and saving it for another day…but not for too many days).
So, there you have it. I’m scared out of my wits and anything but ready…but I’m jumping anyway.
Let’s see what happens.