I’ve been away a while.
I suddenly find my life taking a turn in a direction I never imagined it would go. Well, maybe not so suddenly. I think this has been a long time coming, perhaps even from day 1. I now find myself having to work 60-80 hours a week to make ends meet. I don’t have a fun budget. I don’t even have extravagant life goals anymore. All I want is to be able to work only 40 hours a week to make ends meet.
Somewhere in my past Ana and I met. Somewhere in my past Ana came into my life and I never really realized that she was never going to leave.
Eating disorder recovery is portrayed fantastically. Girls and boys post pictures of their sad skeletal frames next to more current pictures where they’re sporting big smiles and big muscles and expensive Lululemon sportswear.
It’s been nearly 10 years since my diagnosis and here I am, sitting in the cold, watching all of my money go toward gas and student loans and rent. My friends from my school days and at work either think I’m all better or don’t know about my past at all. Recovery and my predisposition to obsess over calories has taken over my life whether I’ve been aware of it or not. And somewhere in that time I lost a lot of things really dear to me.
It doesn’t matter what I look like. As long as I’m stuck in this recovery cycle I’ll never get anywhere. No one will ever love me. I’ll never go anywhere in life.
The problem is I don’t know how to get out.