This is uncharted territory. Frightening. Uneasy. No compass. No frame of reference. No place to go back to. I’m faced with the choice everyday of whether recovery is possible. I don’t “have” to recover. In reality I don’t “have” to do anything. Change is hard, change is scary, uncomfortable, confusing and everything in between. Recovery is a wild ride, resisting recovery is too, but the outcomes of each are very different.
I’m at a crossroads. There are two paths. One path is the path I have been riding for the last ten years. The habitual path, the comfortable path. Gain, lose, gain, lose, hovering right around a number that I chanted in my mind every morning, every night. This is the path of frequent preoccupation with food, ruthless body dysmorphia, constant panic and fear. The path of regret each time I relapsed, the path of not following my meal plan because I didn’t want to make ED angry.
The other path I can take is the one I have never journeyed on before. I’ve come close to choosing this path in the past, heck I even walked down it a little bit but inevitably this path of the unknown intimidated me, so I ran back to the path that felt like home. I still feel intimidated by this path, but I’m determined to continue without looking back. This path, this new, intimidating, daunting path laid out infront of me has no ED at all. I’ve had a full flegded eating disorder, I’ve had a manageble eating disorder, but if I choose this new path my eating disorder will only be a memory. It will be in the past, a memory, a lesson. ED will be part of the fabric but he won’t be on the string I use to thread the needle. This time around, no matter the discomfort, the fear, the doubt, the shame of deviance I will stay on this path less traveled, I will continue. I may look back, but I will never go back .