Thank You, Recovery

In eating disorder world, if there is such a thing, there is nothing more anxiety provoking than Thanksgiving. If I eat the amount of food I feel comfortable eating, then people will think I'm restricting. And if I'm being honest, what I'm comfortable eating is still considerably less than what my meal plan prescribes. If I fill my plate and eat like everyone else I quickly become miserably full, highly triggerd, and the entire day is ruined. Either way, my thoughts become overwhelming and it feels like I'm failing.

At the end of the day, with the help of a supportive friend, I met my calorie requirements, but my brain was still in overdrive. The tug of war game between my disordered and healthy thoughts was more intense than anything I've experienced in a long time. 

Eat dessert.

Don't eat dessert.

Put butter on your potato.

No, save the extra calories.

Drink regular soda.

If you drink diet, nobody will think anything of it.
Take a bigger piece of turkey.
Nah, a smaller piece will feel better when it settles.

Splurge on something you can only eat once a year on Thanksgiving.

No way, choose your safe foods. You don't want to be triggered.

Stick to your meal plan.

This is a stressful day, I deserve a break from that stupid plan.

Everyone is watching me eat, I better be good.

Nobody will know if I skimp here and there.
I will do my best to accurately estimate my calories today.
Round up, better to be under than over.
After the feast at lunch, I still have to eat dinner.
I'm too full to eat dinner.
I'm struggling, I better reach out.
Isolate. Isolate. Isolate.
I better smile so nobody knows how hard this is.
Why doesn't anyone care enough to ask me if I'm okay?

Ahhh, I'm giving myself a headache just thinking about it. It's no wonder I was a grouch that night. Ask my parents, it was brutal.

Now that the big day has come and gone, however, I can think a little more clearly about it. Yes, the entire day is focused on cooking, eating and being stuffed, but that doesn't make it any different than any other day I've faced so far in recovery. Actually, it was MUCH easier than the days when I was on 4,500+ calories per day during weight restoration.

Most importantly, even though my disordered brain was screaming at me and almost beat out my healthy brain, a few days later, I realized something: Going back to that old way of thinking, acting and living, is a hell of a lot worse than my darkest days in recovery. Even though it wasn't my best day, I couldn't be more thankful for what it taught me.

Every single day is a battle, but it's a battle worth fighting. Thank you, Recovery.

Progress.