Recovery Takes a Village

If this post confuses you, trust me when I tell you, that your unsettledness with it mirrors that of mine with the maintenance phase of recovery.

I think one of the most difficult things about recovery in this stage of it, is that since I have gained the weight back, I look recovered, and people treat me as such.

On October 8th, I will have gone the longest I have ever, maintaining my "goal" weight and refraining from my preferred self-destructive eating disorder behaviors that were my coping mechanisms for the past five years (purging, restricting food intake to a dangerous level, and excessively exercising).

I don't like to talk about weight and numbers.

Still, at this point in my recovery, if the number goes up (it has... 24 pounds) it tips me over because it is scary.

What if I can't make the weight-gain stop??

If the number goes down (it has not since my last hospitalization), it tips me over because I begin to worry that I won't be able to fight the vortex that sucks me helplessly back into the darkness of relapse.

What if I can't control the loss and it causes me to relapse into restrictive and compensatory behavior?

Either way, It's a very slippery slope.

The weight-gain is the part of recovery that you all can "see".  It's tangible.  It signifies health.  I look stronger and more healthy.  My skin and eyes have life to them again.

In reality, this is just the very beginning.

Don't get me wrong, some very major changes take place once someone with Anorexia reaches a weight where vital signs become normal again and clear thinking can take place.

It's different for everyone but most of us know exactly where that happens.  I am no exception.

However, I am still very much in need of support.  I am still working on recovery.

Technically, you could say that I am still "sick".

While I am not engaging in self-destructive behaviors that are dangerous to my health and could ultimately kill me, I  am still very much in a fight for my life.

Every single mealtime/snacktime/exercise session, I have to acknowledge the fact that I have the ability to lose the weight I have gained that makes me SO uncomfortable, that mocks all of the efforts of the past five years to be "special", in short order.

I have to choose recovery behavior (which is normal behavior for all of you) over the (if I 'm honest) seductive voice of Olivia who (still) beckons in the shadows for me to return to her like reunited lovers.

I need you to pay attention.  I need you to continue to question things I say or do that  appear to be the handiwork of Olivia.

At the same time, (here comes the confusing part) I need you to believe me when I tell you that I am doing OK.  That I am eating all of my meals and snacks and that exercise is in balance for me.

Because it's true.

I long for the day when you all stop worrying about me and treat me just like the most normal of all of your friends and family.

I am truly in a place I have not been in five years.

I am (mostly) happy with the person I am.  I know what I have to offer and that I am worthy of love and respect.

I am not afraid to tell the truth anymore, even when it might be risky to a relationship of mine.  And when I do, I can detach from the results and accept whatever "is".

But tomorrow.... I could be weak long enough to let Olivia through a crack.

My recovery is new enough that I can be taken by surprise (and have) by someone who walks past me in a grocery store who is obviously active in their Anorexia, hurtling me forcefully back into negative thoughts before I even have time to counter them...

"Look at how special she is.  She is stronger (thinner) than you.  She is still able to do what you used to.  Now you are fat.  You aren't special like her.  You are weak and a failure..."

So I need you still, to treat me like you did 24 pounds ago.

Hold my feet to the fire if I make negative body comments or excessively "body check".

Call me out when I go too long without eating.

Ask me what I am eating.

Tell me what you are eating.

Don't be afraid to tell me if you grow concerned with something you notice I am doing that seems contrary to recovery.

Stand up to me if I seem to try and minimize it.

Believe what I tell you because ultimately, this is my recovery and I need to take the steps and own the consequences when I do not.

Please don't "protect" me from the shame or embarrassment of being hospitalized again if I need it.

But please.  Please.  Don't give up on me if I do relapse.

I don't mean to.

I'm just sick.

(But I am healing)