This past week has been a difficult one for me.
Although I have been home from treatment for a few months now, I still find myself trying to move forward. Looking back, it's easier to see the tunnel vision goggles we were all wearing during our stay in treatment. At the time it was necessary to have our entire worlds flipped upside down; instead of denying the idea of having an eating disorder, we were suddenly forced to talk about them 24/7. There was no escaping it. Eat your meals, talk about your feelings, and you will be set free. We were completely disconnected from the real world and, for me, a tremendous amount of comfort quickly developed.
As time continues to pass us by, I feel that comfort blanket slowly uncovering me and exposing me to the real world again. It feels like I'm in a strange limbo world, being forced to let go of my eating disorder supports and learn to mingle back in with the normal eaters. Where do I belong? It can be an incredibly lonely feeling to start letting go of people and situations that once brought comfort, but sadly, no longer provide healthy progress.
Without a doubt, I am the world's biggest worrier. Always developing the worst possible scenario in my head can be crippling. As I learn to let go and find my voice in recovery, I often feel an overwhelming sense of worry about what the next step is and the consequences I might face. I worry that if I continue to do what's right for my recovery, it will harm others. I worry about making the wrong decision. I worry about the discomfort change often brings. I worry that the people around me don't see the progress I've been making. I worry. I worry. I worry.
This photo and list of worries below made me chuckle. Such simple advice, but it definitely hit a soft spot for me.
Courage, cleanliness, and efficiency (I'm skipping horsemanship- kind of difficult without owning a horse) will be the only things I allow myself to worry about today. Just for one day. It takes courage to make the right decision, which will help clean up the clutter in my brain, and ultimately allow me to recover in a more efficient manor.