I'll be honest: the past few weeks have been rough, ED-wise. Nothing catastrophic has happened (as in, people are talking in nervous whispers about "hospitalizations" and such), but my weight is down some and I've noticed an uptick in ED thoughts and behaviors. I've been remanded to daily doses of Ensure Plus, which isn't my idea of a good time, as well as upping the food intake.
As a consequence, I've been unusually tired and wiped out, which probably explains the decrease in blog posts over the past few weeks. Either I didn't know what to say, or I didn't have the energy with which to say it.
The fight for recovery is exhausting, and I just want the fight to end. I want food to be food and not filled with doubts and terrors. I want my own mind to cease being a minefield and my own worst enemy. I want anxiety to stop snowballing into something bigger and more sinister.
It's frustrating mostly because I thought I was past the point where I thought something this serious could happen. I knew that small slips and things were likely just because life is life. But to have to go back to Ensure Plus? Seriously?!?
Ouch. It's a bit of an ego blow, I'll confess.
The good news is that I've learned from previous experience and I'm not in any medical danger, I'm still working to my usual capacity, and I'm not a suicidal basketcase. I've gotten a handle (or at least started to address things) before they spiraled totally out of control and I lost my ability to fight the anorexia as an outpatient. Because as bad of an ego blow as this is, it's not as bad as having to quit my job and/or move home and/or go back into treatment.
So. That's where I'm at. Down but not out. I'm pulling myself together and getting back on the recovery bandwagon.