Recovery is an all or nothing prospect.
I know that intellectually.
But when my defenses are down and Olivia ratchets up her beckoning, and her winsome promises of perfection and well-being, it's difficult to resist the allure.
Really difficult.
A struggle actually...sometimes to the point that my resolve almost weakens enough to let her slither through a crack in the armor that has so far protected me from taking small steps, that lead to leaps, into her warm, tranquilizing bosom of deceitful protection.
What keeps me safe so far, is knowing that I cannot have both my eating disorder and the relationships I have worked so hard to repair.
I know this on an intellectual level.
Truthfully though, I have moments when I try and convince myself that I can keep a piece of my eating disorder (restriction/purging/excessive exercise specifically) and my important relationships, work and life as they have become in recovery.
I mean, why can't I just restrict or purge (over-exercise or physically purge food I have been weak enough to eat) just to the weight I feel comfortable with?
What's the harm in that?
And then I see someone in my community who is successfully using my eating disorder behaviors to deal with trauma and who is pleasing Olivia and in so doing, reaping the rewards of protruding bones, baggy clothes and disappearing...
And I think to myself..."you have done so well. You can restrict back down to a weight that is comfortable and then stop. You've got this now. No one will notice if you lose a few pounds because no one is really paying that close attention anymore..."
Living alone and espousing the joy of recovery to those who care about me, make it difficult, even shameful to admit the demons that still linger.
Sharing successes is easy.
Admitting weakness and the real potential for relapse is scary.
People I love will give up on me (again).
People I have worked so hard to gain the trust of will abandon hope for my resolve and success.
If I admit to the struggle to eat. To avoid a second workout or the urge to expel nutrients from my body in the pursuit of calm and comfort. You all might give up on me.
But if I don't reach out and admit the struggle, I have much to lose.
I'll lose all the trust that I have gained over the past five months.
I'll trade confidence for timidity.
Assertiveness for diffidence.
Lucidity for confusion.
Courage for fear.
Honesty for Olivia...
One of the 8 keys to recovery that I am reminded of each and every morning from written notes on my mirror, is to "..reach out to people rather than to your eating disorder..."
Olivia wants me to do just the opposite:
"...lose the weight you have gained. It is out of control and it has gone on long enough. You have been weak and this is making you miserable. You are strong enough now... you can lose just a few pounds and no one will notice. You know you will feel better about yourself if you just get back to the weight where we are comfortable again. You have proved your point. You are in control now. You can stop after losing half of the weight you gained, no one will notice."
But I know the truth now. I cannot stand with one foot in recovery and one foot in my eating disorder. I must deliberately and wholly chose either the dock or the boat.
I know that.
I also know that sometimes I need a life-boat, just in case I fall in between them.
Recovery is an all or nothing prospect.
