Tonight I was celebrating my aunt’s birthday with my family at this really incredible restaurant with really incredible bread.
I knew we were going to this restaurant for a few days and I was thinking about this bread the whole time.
Should I eat it, or should I not?
Maybe I shouldn’t eat it because it’s my birthday tomorrow and I know I am going to be celebrating with a lot of food?
Maybe I’ll only have half?
OK, well the big moment came when the waiter put the bread basket in the middle of the table.
All of my cousins took one. I just sat there thinking, and I decided to have half.
Ed was satisfied with this half.
Me on the other hand…I got done with the half in 5 minutes and was definitely not satisfied.
I am not sure what clicked, but something within me just said “just go for it! eat the other half.”
I was looking at the almost empty bread basket and the only thing left in it was my sad half that I had left there the first time around. It reminded me of so many nights that I had taken bites and bits off other people’s food instead of ordering my own, or nibbling off something in the kitchen and only leaving a little half left because finishing it was too much to handle.
So, I went for it.
For the first time in a long long time, I enjoyed the bread from the bread basket at dinner.
I know it may sound like nothing, but this was something. It was breaking another huge Ed rule. Ed never ever lets you eat appetizers, or bread, especially if he knows there is a meal coming.
But Ed was a tiny little miniscule thing on my shoulder tonight. He was so powerless and he knew it.
And since my birthday is tomorrow, we celebrated my birthday along with my aunts too, and when I got the ice cream sundae (most delicious one ever by the way), I only could wish for one thing.
I know they say that you are not supposed to say what you wish for to anyone, but this wish was important because it’s the first time I ever wished for something in all of my recovery so far and it was my first birthday wish in recovery.
I would have thought that I would have wished to not gain anymore weight.
I would have thought that I would wish to kill Ed.
I would have thought that I would wish to get some incredible job when I graduate.
Or I would have thought that I would wish to not eat too much this weekend.
But I didn’t.
The only thing that came to my mind when I blew out that candle was this image of myself smiling and laughing.
I am not even sure if that is a wish, because it’s more of an image I guess, but it’s an image that was almost showing me what I wanted my future to look like.
So essentially, I wished to smile and to laugh more often.
When I think of me on the other side of recovery, that is what I see : me smiling and laughing.
I didn’t even see a body when I made my wish. I didn’t see a scale. I didn’t see a number.
I saw happiness.
And if that doesn’t speak for how far I’ve come in recovery, then I don’t know what does.