Recovery continues to be a strange place for me these days. I find myself avoiding this blog and running from talking or thinking about anything eating disorder related, which is completely opposite from how I was a few short weeks ago. It almost feels like life is becoming more important than the eating disorder, and while that's a wonderful thing, it also makes me a little uneasy.
Life is actually pretty great right now. Last week I finished up my first (and only) semester back at the university I failed out of a few years ago. I found a way to face my daily triggers and push through the courses - which isn't something I was sure I could ever do, but I did it. Wait, not only did I do it, I also ended up getting all As.
In three weeks I'll be starting at a new university and am finally moving back out on my own. My housing arrangements were just finalized yesterday and I could not be more excited. For the past year or so I have felt trapped living in my parents basement, but there is finally an end in sight. The past couple of months have been spent worrying about the future and driving myself crazy for no reason. Things really do seem to fall into place with time, patience, and a little hard work.
There are also a few new relationships developing in my life right now. New friends have come into my life and I have been lucky enough to reconnect with a few old friends. It's a really nice change to see my social circle slowly developing again. As I begin this new chapter at the new school, hopefully the number of new friends will continue to increase. I don't think many people realize how isolating eating disorders can be or how scary it can be to put yourself out there after years of being sick. Thankfully, my fears of never being accepted due to my past have been proven wrong.
Eating, as unbelievable as this may sound, has almost become second nature. Don't get me wrong, I still have days where I try on every single sweater in my closet only to leave the house with a heavy bad body image cloud hanging over my head - but what girl doesn't experience that from time to time?
Recovery is no longer about food for me. In fact, I don't think it has been about food for awhile now. Recovery has become a constant battle against my inner, incredibly harsh self-critic. I'm starting to think this battle and constant quest for self-improvement is what recovery is all about. It is possible I will spend the rest of my life searching for this so-called "happy place," but I have learned over the past few weeks just how important it is to focus on how far I have come rather than how far I still have to go.
This place in recovery is also strange because I feel like I will somehow begin to relapse if I continue to allow my life grow larger than the disorder. A good friend of mine gave me the most perfect advice last night, "Your life revolved around EDs for years! And now separation from that is an option. It is reasonable to want to take that!"