I fumble through the partial darkness, insulted by the harsh light that streams in from the hallway, and hurts my poorly adjusted eyes as I am just being aroused from my indecent sleep. Today I was lucky, and woke up to the nice tech who sings your name out in a way that makes you a little more willing to get out of bed, but other mornings you end up being aroused by what one staff member may have snarkily referred to as "the humdingers- but you can pick those out." Obviously, I really like her too. I make my way towards the bathroom to change from my warm sweats into a thin gown that briskly snaps me alert, as I begin to hover down the hallway towards the scale to be weighed, and have my vitals taken. These are the moments where you are forced to look away. It's all about the numbers, but you aren't allowed to know anymore. It's like the weight of the world and control is crucial, but this is no longer yours. It is terrifying, and enough to throw you into a full blown anxiety attack as you are waking up, but also comforting to realize it is no longer your fire to play with....
I've begun to notice swelling in my feet and ankles. This happens all too often in refeeding when your body no longer trusts you. I became quickly enraged today upon noticing this. The discomfort, and the uncomfortable thoughts of having to deal with the sight of it, and the feeling of moving and maneuvering these bricks. The feeling of water everywhere else. I want the instant gratification. The instant results. And I want them now..... But then I realized that is part of my problem. Of course my body does not trust me- just in the same way I do not trust myself. I do not blame it a single bit. Trust is something that takes time. It is gentle, and requires patience, diligence and effort. The same way this did not develop overnight, it will not disappear in an instant. These things involve loving yourself. Even through carrying around water weight- and ankles and bellies that make you feel as if you should be pregnant... hell, maybe in this process it can even come with laughter and jokes at yourself. What is life without joy and laughter?
I want to be kinder to myself. It is only when we let go, and love ourselves... trust ourselves, that our bodies can do the same. It is difficult, and it is uncomfortable and scary to be undergoing a process of change that produces so many unknowns... but within this process I know lies recovery. It will not be instant- but the best and everlasting worthwhile changes are always worth fighting for.
I've begun to notice swelling in my feet and ankles. This happens all too often in refeeding when your body no longer trusts you. I became quickly enraged today upon noticing this. The discomfort, and the uncomfortable thoughts of having to deal with the sight of it, and the feeling of moving and maneuvering these bricks. The feeling of water everywhere else. I want the instant gratification. The instant results. And I want them now..... But then I realized that is part of my problem. Of course my body does not trust me- just in the same way I do not trust myself. I do not blame it a single bit. Trust is something that takes time. It is gentle, and requires patience, diligence and effort. The same way this did not develop overnight, it will not disappear in an instant. These things involve loving yourself. Even through carrying around water weight- and ankles and bellies that make you feel as if you should be pregnant... hell, maybe in this process it can even come with laughter and jokes at yourself. What is life without joy and laughter?
I want to be kinder to myself. It is only when we let go, and love ourselves... trust ourselves, that our bodies can do the same. It is difficult, and it is uncomfortable and scary to be undergoing a process of change that produces so many unknowns... but within this process I know lies recovery. It will not be instant- but the best and everlasting worthwhile changes are always worth fighting for.
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