3 months.

I’m having a hard time holding it together today. I’ve been on the edge of tears all day long (nearly cried while listening to someone talk at clinical). It could be many things: waking up at 5:45, a pretty long and anxiety-provoking day at the hospital, or the very stressful situation that came up last night. More than anything else though, it is because today marks 3 months since leaving CFD. That’s a quarter of a year (!?!?), 92 days. My feelings today really mirror what I felt back then. I want to insert my journal entries from my last day there. These will be in italics throughout this post to help differentiate.

The CFD journey is officially over. I am so blessed to have 34 days with some of the most amazing people I have ever met. This was and will always be the best decision for me. God knew exactly what I needed. This is it. 100% true to this day. I think I’m able to appreciate my experience even more now that I am removed from it.

I want to believe all everyone said. I want to remember it forever and ever. That I am: a light, the official Michigan guide, kind, RESILIENT, courageous, strong, worthy, that I have changed, I can do this, a fun presence in the house, going to recover, overcome lots of things in my time here, have a bright future, have made so much progress, have to keep opening up. 

I want to believe these things ^ More than anything in the world

I’ll admit, I’ve had a difficult time believing any of this. I think part of it is not making an effort to remind myself. My goal will be to write these down somewhere I will read it often. I want to make encouragement, mantras, and positive attributes part of my daily life as it was in residential.

J (my therapist) – if you give a mouse a cookie… she knocked on the door of all my shame but I am the one who opened up. That shows my growth. She has hope for me to continue this. I am grateful for everything she’s done for me. I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I never could have let the shame out if I hadn’t had her. Maybe I would have just carried it forever. While there will never be anything outpatient like J’s shame train (choochoo!) group, I am continuing to explore my shame. I don’t want to live with it forever. EMDR is the current answer to this. I’m hopeful.

What has changed? A LOT

  • I am using my assertive voice
  • choosing recovery over vacation, my parents, what I want my summer to be like
  • I am letting go of the shame
  • I see that my family has perpetuated the shame
  • I am nourishing my body again
  • I can be trusted to eat on my own accord
  • I am using skills
  • the thoughts don’t fully control my life and I can see beyond them
  • I know how to lean on supports
  • I am closer to who I want to be
  • I am equipped
  • I have 34 days of trials, tears, setbacks, frustration, feeling like a failure, steps backwards, resorting to old ways, giving Ed a loudspeaker and more bu also 34 days of discovery, fighting, using skills, so many successes, backing down from Ed thoughts, opening up, checking in, and getting support
  • I am the Challenge Queen

I want to recreate this. What has changed post-discharge:

  • I’m nearly a month into school and doing very well, all things considered
  • I am putting my recovery first by adding in as much support as possible during each week
  • feeling empowered enough to make strides in my recovery all on my own
  • honesty: some slippage, but this is a normal thing that doesn’t need to continue
  • being BRAVE and making strides I haven’t been able to do for a long time
  • I have been with only outpatient care for exactly 4 weeks and I didn’t start sinking right away like before
  • I am proud of my summer instead of embarrassed
  • slowly getting back into yoga
  • giving myself a break and time to rest
  • overall I have maintained the mood improvements that came in residential
  • I feel stronger than I have in a long time, outside of treatment
  • I have hope
  • I am listening to my dietitian and therapist (sometimes reluctantly)

I don’t think I could reflect on CFD without reminiscing. I miss it. I’ll think of memories and laugh, smile, cry, feel proud of myself or others, and experience pretty much every emotion out there. Residential is this life-changing experience. I get emotional thinking about it because my entire stay was full of finally feeling again. I was in a very vulnerable state while also being pushed and challenged. I haven’t ever been a part of anything like it. Right now, I can’t look back at my journal without crying because of the impact it’s had on me. I will never, ever take this all for granted. Instead, I am forever grateful for the opportunity and everyone who made my experience what it was.

These three months have been nowhere near perfect, and I am okay with it. Recovery is a process that’s led to more ups and downs than any rollercoaster. The difference now is that I am fighting like hell. My worst days still are better than any from last year.  CFD (and subsequently, PHP and IOP) helped me build a strong foundation. Now I am just building on to that and continuing in this process.

I will end this post the same way I ended my journal 3 months ago: This is the beginning of a beautiful, freer life.

Goodbye for now!

Just a quick post, but I’m about 10 minutes out from Center for Discovery! I have all kinds of emotions and fears, but residential is what I need. Not sure when exactly I’ll have a moment to blog, but see you until then!

Where I’m at – end of exam week 5/17

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I’m feeling vulnerable and raw, so here goes. This picture is real life right now. No filter, no editing, no posing to make things seem better than they are because it really has been a shitty time.

It’s not quite 6 am. I have been up basically two days straight, minus a few broken hours of sleep Monday night. I have barely eaten with all of the stress I’m under.  I am studying for my exam at 9 and attempting to work on a week overdue essay. I still have one more exam tomorrow and the task of moving out my entire dorm by 4ish.

I question myself constantly: how did I, a once straight-A, hardworking, enthusiastic, and successful student come to this point? The answer (almost solely): my eating disorder.

I always assumed that nothing could possibly get worse than Fall of 2015, before residential. I struggled hard my first semester at Calvin, but I gained so much momentum in recovery through treatment. Things went well up until the end of this past Fall; then enter IOP and groups, improvement, and once again relapse. I have never been so low on motivation, dealt with this amount of stress, had my depression and anxiety affect me quite this way, or relapsed so significantly so fast. This combination naturally compounded into a miserable experience, particularly the last 2 months or so.

I am surviving and that is it. I feel like giving up most of the time. My behaviors, thoughts, lack of following my mealplan, etc have lead to a pretty desperate situation. I had two choices: gain motivation and stay outpatient or enter a higher level of care. Nothing seemed to help where I was headed. Everything only intensified, leading to pretty drastic (to my treatment team) weight loss. Last week we made an agreement that I reluctantly obliged to: lose absolutely no weight through the week/in the future or I would be forced to have a phone session with my mom. Monday that’s exactly what happened.

The conversation itself didn’t end terribly. She was upset with my lies and hiding everything, but also offered her support. We mentioned a higher level of care, but she did not know I had already contacted CFD and found answers. Through the remainder of therapy and my dietitian appt my concern only grew. It clicked that even with my mom’s support I no longer felt confident in my recovery. I made the decision that afternoon to return to residential. I called her that night and began the truly difficult conversation.

Residential feels like giving up in ways. I hate knowing I need more help.. The one thing that has brought comfort is the support from those at treatment. My therapist and dietitian both are happy with my decision, although they wouldn’t make it for me. Group was also very affirming today. It is the right choice. There will never be a good time to go away for treatment, but this is my time. I am too exhausted, too sick, struggling way too much to function. It’s time to put recovery first and begin to break free once again.