It is strange how this disorder is so night and day. Last night, I was saying how proud I am of how far I have come and this afternoon I’m in a relapse feeling like I’m back at square one. I’m tired of fighting myself.
Moments like these are what make recovery so challenging. It can be confusing and downright disheartening when your actions are not inline with your intentions. I operated in this zone for many long years. As I mentioned in the journal excerpt above, I felt like I was fighting myself.
Last week, a dear friend of mine was hospitalized with critical injuries after being hit by a car. This week, I took a whirlwind 2.5 day trip to the city where he lives to visit him in the hospital and to give his parents a much-needed break from bedside duty.
When I was packing for the trip, my mother voiced her concerns about whether or not I was going to be able to find food that I was comfortable eating while on such a trip. Thinking that it was just not important relative to what my friend’s family was going through, I told her that I would simply “make it work”. I packed snacks and, upon arrival in the city, did enough groceries for two breakfasts and two lunches.
I did not underestimate the emotional impact that seeing my friend would make on me, but I did underestimate how it would affect my eating.