Graduation

(Picture taken at my sister's graduation party)

"If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." - Dr. Wayne Dyer It seems like such a simple thing to do, change the way you look at things. If you look at a situation with a different perspective or a different frame of mind, your perception of that situation will most likely change, along with the situation. However, changing the way you look at things, is like changing your handwriting; it's awkward and hard. I like this quote, but I don't like how simple it makes the act of doing it sound. I have recently had to implement this in my life due to a situation a couple of days ago. For those of you who read this blog, you know that I have been in treatment for my eating disorder for almost six months, and well, it's pretty much been hell. About 5 days ago, on Thursday May 17th, I graduated from treatment. I had been waiting, earnestly and restlessly for the day to come, where I was free, not necessarily free from my eating disorder, because it is still there unfortunately, but free to start living a normal life again and to just start living. Living a life away from treatment and rules and check-ups and tears...lots and lots of tears. I have been waiting for that day, and it finally came, but it did not come the way I had expected. That Thursday morning I thought it would be appropriate to write about my last day of treatment and how I was feeling about it, and I did, but I decided I would post it after treatment so it would be more official. Well, I obviously didn't post that...because I didn't feel like I deserved to. When I got back from treatment, I was automatically greeted by my parents, with congratulations and love, along with a card signed by my whole family and a beautiful beaded bracelet. I had wished the tears that were welling up inside me were tears of joy and thanks instead of guilt and shame. It all happened and felt so wrong. I wasn't supposed to feel that way. I wasn't supposed to drive home crying. I wasn't supposed to find out, on my last day of treatment, that I had lost weight periodically for a few weeks and would potentially have to stay in treatment for another small cycle of weight restoration. I was pulled out of yoga, and told by my therapist, that I lost weight, weight that wasn't supposed to be lost, and that my treatment team was concerned that I was stepping out of treatment when this happened and suggest I stay. Do you know that feeling you get when you're in class and your teacher asks everyone to pull out their homework and you instantly feel the blood rush to your head and your stomach drops because you realize you left it at home? Yeah I'm familiar with that feeling too, except this time, it was about 10X that. I felt like I was about to lose all hope and motivation for whatever was about to happen next. I felt like getting down on my knees and begging her in that very moment. Instead, I told her, I didn't feel like I lost anything. I didn't feel like I was doing anything wrong, but I was. I told her I was afraid for what might happen to me mentally if I was refused to step out of treatment because of how much I was looking forward to it. She agreed, and said she wanted me to meet with my dietician at least every week and stay on my meal plan. I wanted to jump up and hug her. I was happy that my graduation from treatment was not revoked, but I still felt absolutely terrible after I left that room. I knew exactly what happened. I knew exactly why I felt so terrible. I let ED win. I let him take over for a few days and thought it wouldn't change anything. He convinced me that no one would notice...but they did. In the car ride back home, I actually sobbed. I cried because I couldn't believe I had let him back in so close to the brink of starvation. That life of misery and pain. I cried because I realized how truly scary and cruel ED really is. I cried because I genuinely thought everything was fine. I know that recovery is not perfect, I've heard all of it, and I'm not saying that's not true because it is. I'm just saying it sucks. I got home that night and didn't even consider posting the blog post I made that morning. I didn't even feel worthy of my family's congratulations. I didn't feel worthy at all. I felt like a failure. I felt selfish for letting ED control my life and for putting my family through so much pain and worry. But I didn't want to just sit there in my own pity. I was not going to let it ruin my last day of treatment, I was not going to let it take away my 6 months of recovery, and I sure as hell was not going to let it ruin my life. I turned 20 the next day, and I'll be honest I was feeling pretty pathetic. I felt angry at what my eating disorder took from me, which was time. It took a chunk of my life away. A chunk of my college life and the last chunk of my teenage life. I remember the day after my birthday, my sister was having her high school graduation party and for some reason I was really struggling, not just with the food, but with others around me and things going on. My triggers were heightened for some reason, so it made it a bit harder to get myself a plate of food. So, I went to the bathroom, and repeatedly said to myself "screw you ED, screw you ED, screw you ED," until I felt like I had released some angst. I walked back out to the party and picked up a dang plate and ate that dang food that was dang good. I even ended up having a delicious piece of red velvet cake. I realized after that weekend that I was not a failure. I always like to tell people that bad things are going to happen, but it's how you handle yourself and the situation after that matters the most. I realized that I'm ready for this life free of rules and judgements. Free of pain and discomfort. Free of everything ED wants me to be chained to. I desperately wish I could be free from everything, but there is a commonly used saying in this society that says, "nothing in life is ever free." It's the unfortunate truth. I want to be free of everything but I'm still paying the price. Freedom does not come easy. However, I'm prepared to fight for it, no matter what the cost.