Intro To Recovery


I really, really hate myself for it, but my first thought was along the lines of “Good. I’m one of the skinniest girls here.”

I had my first orientation meeting with the recovery group today. Just like after my solo meeting last week, I left feeling discouraged. I go to the Centre feeling so motivated and so ready to change my life, and I leave feeling defeated, or like I’ve come to the wrong place.

I’m not like those other sick girls though, I eat all the time. I just need someone to talk to; I don’t need to see a dietitian; I can just talk through some stuff with a psychologist and then I’ll probably just be all recovered! And yet, even while I’m thinking these things, I know they’re not fully true. Still, these are the “facts” my brain chooses to cling to.

I want to get better, and then I don’t. Mostly, I’m terrified. I was diagnosed with an eating disorder at age twelve, and had unhealthy food and body issues for god knows how long before that. At age twenty-one, I really can’t remember ever living a life that wasn’t governed by an eating disorder’s rules. Recovery would mean a whole new standard of “normal,” and I really don’t know if I’m ready for that, or if I ever will be. I don’t know if I want to give up that feeling of control.

In theory, recovery sounds great. I’d love to be able to not worry about what I eat or how I look or how much I weigh. I’d love to relax and not be so uptight and worried all the time. I’d love to be able to mindlessly eat a bag of chips, and then not feel sickened with guilt afterwards. But right now, all of those things equate to the same thing in my head: fat.

I keep hearing about these girls who manage to beat their eating disorders, and live normal, healthy lives, and they still look amazing. And I know their stories are meant to inspire me and convince me that recovery is possible, yet I keep writing myself off as a lost cause. Perhaps it worked for them, but this is just the way I am. This is how my life is, and it’s probably not going to change. And I hate these thoughts — I hate myself for having these thoughts. I want to believe that I can do this, that life after recovery will be so much better.

But right now it’s a huge struggle.