Good morning everyone,
I want to start off by saying how amazed, lifted, and inspired I am by the incredible and unconditional support I received after my post yesterday.
Right before I published that post, I was so scared of what you, my readers, my family, and my friends would think of me, that I asked God for protection and to watch over me.
About 20 minutes after that, the one song that I have dedicated to my grandpa (my angel who I wrote about last Friday),came on the radio. This song is not a song often played on the radio, and in that moment, I just knew that this was his way of letting me know he was proud of me for being honest.
Above that, I can sit here this morning and say, that although It was scary to be honest, more with myself than with you all, I am proud of myself for doing so.
Once I exposed the secretive thoughts that I was having with Ed the past few days, I felt that they were no longer a secret-I no longer had to feel ashamed and guilty about them.
While I loved the new nutritionist I went to,yesterday, I had an interesting experience there.
She had asked me, if even though I am not looking at the number on the scale, if I still want her to tell me if I have gained, lost, or maintained weight every week.
I had two choices yesterday: I could have said yes, and totally let Ed take control of this new relationship with my nutritionist too, or I could be strong, and listen to myself and not to Ed-and tell her that no, that information about my weight is not necessary.
I went with the latter option, and told her that I do not need to know anything regarding my weight. Yes, I was proud of myself for making a healthy choice and for listening to my voice instead of Ed’s, but that number still consumed me.
I even asked the nutritionist if my weight was good or bad-and of course, being the wonderful professional she is, she replied by saying, “why does that number even matter?”.
Well, to Ed, that number matters, and truthfully, it still matters to me too.
And I was sad in that moment yesterday when I realized that that number still matters to me. I don’t even know what it is-yet somehow, it still matters.
I remember looking at my own red, drained and exhausted face as I was running on the treadmill after that appointment, just feeling so alone.
I remember looking at the people around me, and thinking to myself, “if only they knew what a hell I was in right now, they would see the chaos I’m trapped in”
I was so disappointed in myself yesterday because yet again, even after being honest and letting out my secrets, I was still being suffocated by Ed’s thoughts.
I feel like I am in a constant battle every single minute of my day lately.
I am always needing to be a fighter. I am always at war with Ed. When do I get a break?
After calculating and re-calculating my calorie intake for the day about six times in a row, and feeling so mad at Ed for sucking me back into his box again, I decided I am done partaking in these self destructive behaviors and I went to go look at some inspirational quotes.
I came across this : “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.”
This made me think, that even right now-even in this thick and heavy darkness-it is possible to find a way out-to find a tiny source of happiness.
So here I am, turning on my own light in my very dark and currently lonely Ed consuming world.
Is it a bright light? No.
Is it a powerful light? No.
Is it enough to get me through just one more day of recovery? Yes.
I am going to leave this post at that-I have found just enough light in my own inner strength to get me through one more day of recovery and to carry me into tomorrow.
I am going to pray as hard as I can today, for God to let that light shine long and bright for me today, and to not let it burn out on me.
No matter how loud Ed gets today, I am going to focus on that tiny little light.
It’s as though I am looking through a long dark tunnel and I can only see a glimpse of light shinning through at the end of it-but you know what? That’s all I need right now.
All I need is a little shed of light to remind me that this darkness will one day disappear.
And no matter how dark yesterday felt, and no matter how dark today or tomorrow might feel-it is still no where close to the dark days I spent sick, living in denial of my relationship with Ed and living as his prisoner-and to that I am grateful.
No day-ever again-will ever be as dark as those days I spent suffocated, controlled and tortured by Ed.
No day will ever be as dark as the ones where I used a number on a scale to validate myself.
Temporary darkness in recovery may come and go-but it’s temporary, and even through those temporary dark moments, like right now-I can say that I am alive, I am breathing, I haven’t weighed myself in 60 days, and yet, I am still OK.
I am OK.
Hello to opening my eyes to the tiny light waiting for me at the end of this dark tunnel, and hello life