Wednesday, March 4, 2009

blogging from work...

i shouldn't be blogging from work, but oh well, it's lunchtime, so it's sort of appropriate. i've been feeling emotionally e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d all day. like i just want to go home and cry. i'm not usually like this.

i think i've been facing a conflict that i've never really faced before, in that i can no longer avoid my emotions with the ed. sure, i still have the option... i will always have the option... but i am just too aware of how i would be using the symptoms to shut out everything else. you might close the blinds when it's raining to avoid seeing the rain, but you can't really deny that it's still raining. you can still hear it. and right now it is pouring and i can't shut the blinds. and you know how when when once sense is lessened, another is heightened? like if you close your eyes your smell and touch and hearing are heightened? that's how i feel like now... so even if i turn my back to the window my ears only hear the sounds louder, louder... deafening...

i never understood the concept of "grieving the disorder" before. it seemed like one of those things therapists made up to make it all seem more real. but it IS real. and i am grieving. i am grieving the loss of what was for so long my safety blanket, grieving the loss of time given over to the disorder, grieving the 'what was' and 'what could have been.' and grieving often brings up a lot of messy emotions.

so i'm at work now, really too distracted to focus on anything. i just ate lunch, and it wasn't really difficult, it was just... lunch. last night and today i haven't felt guilty for believing i have overeaten... i know i haven't... but sometimes i just feel like 'what is this point of all of this?' will it bring me anything joyful? seems like an obvious answer... the ed guarantees that i will not find the things that i want, but at the same time, recovery cannot guarantee that i will. so i still question whether the risk is one worth taking.

but i am still fighting, so apparently the promise of a happy life is still worth the risk...

pictures to come later, but i think this post needs to stand alone.


  1. I cannot tell you how much this resonates with me right now. Thank you for your honesty. I, too, am mourning. And I'm not sure I'm ready to let go yet.

  2. liz...

    and thanks for your comment. it means a lot to me that others can relate to what often seems like just feeling sorry for myself.