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Today's the day I have to confess my relapse to my therapist. No more extension for me since my boyfriend said i'm not improving any on my own. He's right, but I also think he expects too much of me. I'm not ready. I also know I never really will be. I couldn't sleep last night. I tossed and turned for hours with way too much on my mind. Everything I think is a contradiction. It's like I'm split down the middle, or I'm two people. Get better and get sicker. Gain weight and lose weight. I'm dying and not that ill. I want to be healthy but I need to feel all my bones. I want people to be concerned but without noticing what's wrong. And the biggest realization of last night...
I want recovery, but not if they make me eat.
I know that probably sounds ridiculous. Like duh, it's eating disorder recovery, they're going to make you eat. But I made a list last night of 100 reasons I want to recover. I was feeling pretty motivated about everything and maybe even a little brave. Then I realized that all of those reasons are things that are only going to come way down the road, like changes in my mindset. The right now part, the actual chewing and swallowing and trying to get better, I don't think I can do it. I'm completely terrified. Calories, textures, smells, sugar, butter, oils, fats, portions, meals...please don't make me. The last time I ate a complete meal without purging was December 12th and I was on a road trip with a friend. Before that it might have been October. Like it's not even just the idea of gaining weight that's freaking me out, although that is scary too, it's the actual eating. I used to at least think about foods that I wish I could let myself eat, like yum I miss this or that or that would be delicious wouldn't it be nice if I could eat that? but no. Not anymore. Now even what used to be my favorite foods terrify me and I don't even want to be near them. I just hope they don't give me a meal plan and think that will help. I seriously know that I should be eating I just can't. Telling me what and when to eat isn't going to help that.
I think even though I weigh more than I did last time I recovered, my mental state is in much worse condition.
I'm right there with you. I relate to every word that you wrote. This is a tough illness, and I feel the same way about the meal plan. I have my meal plan on my fridge and I still don't follow it. I don't eat as much as I need to, or when I need to. The whole thought just terrifies me. But it sounds like your boyfriend truly cares about you and just wants you to get better. If there's any motivation to get better and recover, maybe he is it? I know my boyfriend is my motivation. Keep your head up and remember that you're not in this alone.
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