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Basically what happened today is same old fears kept up and
got me scared and then started triggering my ED. Then I went to doctor…and my
pulse was only 38….so I got an EKG and bloodwork. Then doc let me know my heart
shows a potential blockage..whcih may or may not be life threatening…and all of
this it got me scared, it got me to stop and think, and it woke me back up to recovery.
Even moreso than before latest wane of motivation.
You see my dad died suddenly from a heart arrhythmia and I
got scared maybe I could too. And the first thing I was scared about was not
being able to become an ED therapist/nutritionist. Not fulfill what I feel is
my calling.
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If I am tired of all these doctors, if I want to avoid all these medical bills, if I want to freaking be free then I just start choosing freedom. The end. No questions. No excusable ED behaviors. No flaunting that I have stuck to a meal plan and calling that recovery. It's time to start making the hard choices, facing the food fears. I don't need a nutritionist to do it. I know how to do it. A nutritionist would just give me "permission." But I'm not a kid, I don't need permission, I just need to trust myself, trust God, and do what's right.
While I was at gym I started to really think this all
through and figure out what is holding me back and I came to a realization I
have been avoiding. Part of me is holding me back from full recovery, facing
fear foods and such, because in a way it’s moving on from my dad’s death. I
know..this is going to sound absurd, but I think a small part of me wants to
stay disordered while still doing meal plan because I have this weird hope my
dad will send me to rehab again. But I have to face reality. He isn’t here, he isn’t coming back, and holding back
my recovery would only crush him. The best thing I can do to in a way bring him
back to life is to fight for my life and my dream.
So here is reality. Only I CAN SAVE ME. No one is going to
sweep in and save me, I’m not going to be shipped off to treatment. NO! I am
going to have to do the hard work, make the hard choices, and finally once and
for all, choose recovery for me. EVERY DAY. EVERY MEAL. No matter the fear. I
just have to do it. To choose life.
Papers don’t just write themselves and people don’t just
wake up recovered. It takes work. It takes choices. If I want normal life, it’s
gonna mean pushing myself. Maybe some of my colleagues only have to overcome
grad school to become therapist, I just have an extra course to complete…it’s
called kick ED’s Ass Class, but with the strength of God I can and will do it.
If I am scared to eat
earlier I have to do it anyway. If I am craving a fear food, that is one I will
do. When ED screams to workout more, I will leave gym. I will be open and
honest with my team and recovery coach and lay it all out there (like I have
been doing) and take and implement whatever they tell me. This is how I am
going to recover, this is how I am going to live, and this is the ONLY way my
dream will come true. If I DO IT.
I honestly think this is why my dad didn’t send me to rehab
again my senior year of college. He knew it wasn’t working and knew I would
have to do this the slow, long, hard way outpatient as much as he wished he
could get me a quick fix. And it was hard for him to watch as I started to do
that and dealt with all the emotions. But he knew I could do it. Now I must
take the torch he bore and believe in myself, knowing I can do it.
Because I can’t keep going the way I am. I can’t be driven
by fear anymore. I am ready to be driven by my dream.