Okay, so in regards to my last post, trying to recover hasn't been going so well. No one actually reads these posts, so I guess this is more for myself to look back on in a few months when hopefully I'm off in college and I'm actually healthy. Over the past few weeks, I kind of let the other voice in my head take control. I lost 6 more pounds within a couple weeks. I was doing better for awhile, but of course... relapse. I guess not going to the doctor seems to be a little bit worse, since I have nothing to aim for anymore. However, I recently started an Instagram to try to help me with recovery and I honestly have to say how shocked I am to find out how many other people are in the same position as me. There are literally hundreds of other girls my age going through this eating disorder. It makes me feel a bit better to know that I'm not alone in my recovery, but it pains me greatly. All of these amazing girls who fell victim to this terrible disease; it just isn't fair. I honestly wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy because it's been hell for me. As if I haven't been stressed enough with the divorce and school and work.
The other day, I met with a nutritionist, which didn't really help. But I sort of had an epiphany afterwards when my mom and I discussed the new information we gained. It FINALLY hit me. I don't want to be miserable all the time or exhausted 24/7 or irritable or frantically counting calories or crying over every single piece of food I put in my mouth or having a panic attack at school because I'm eating in front of people. Because that just gets old. And I'm sick of having another voice in my head. There's only room for one, and that's stubborn old me, NOT the voice of my eating disorder. I WANT to go to college this fall, I WANT to graduate from high school, I WANT to travel this summer, and I WANT my old body back (And most importantly, I want my favorite cousins to come down to see me graduate and uh, hospital=no graduation, which =no cousins). I have so many things to look forward to later on in life and if I'm stuck in the hospital, how am I supposed to experience those things?
The doctor called my mom yesterday and told her she wanted me to come in for a check-up before she put me in the hospital. Naturally, flipping out was my first reaction. But my mom did something I wasn't expecting. She told her to give me a couple weeks so I could get back on track. She stood up for me. She knows the hospital is the last place I want to be and would risk my chances of getting to go to college.
It hit me that this is my FINAL chance I have to make a change. I've been given way too many second chances over the past year and I know this is the last one I have, so I'm going to make it count. Everything happens for a reason and I know that God is giving me another chance to work through this on my own and become stronger from this. So you know what? I'm going to eat. I'm going to gain back to the weight I'm supposed to be. While 86.5 pounds feels good at times, I know it isn't healthy and isn't that what we all want to be? Healthy. Not bone thin. Healthy. I want to be able to go for a run again and exercise and not feel completely winded when I walk up the stairs at school. I want to recover. So I'm going to.
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