Mirrors and Tears

Well, it's been 6 months in recovery. I've been through hard times where I thought I wouldn't make it, and I've been through glorious times of triumph where I felt God's hand on my life and Him guiding me in this journey. Here I am now, and to be honest, now is absolutely terrible. It is the worst I've been in the recovery process. Actually, it's the worst I've been since the eating disorder started. So here's what's been happening.... It's always been my dream to go to California. Actually, I've always felt called to live there even though I had never been. Well, I found that I had the time and money to be able to go, so I did it. I went to Santa Clarita, California to visit one of my best friend's from Lee who is from California. I used my own money to buy my airfare and activities. Now, I HATE, LOATHE, DESPISE spending money. I put all of the money I make into my savings account and don't touch it. I'm blessed and spoiled to have the parents that I have because they give me everything I want and need, which has transpired into a bad thing because I rely on them for everything. Regardless, spending money is not my thing, so making this huge investment was a huge move for me. However, I didn't realize that until I was actually there. The first night, I realized how much money I had spent and how much I was about to spend, and I became incredibly depressed and stressed and anxious, and I wished I wouldn't have gone at all, but I was already in it so I had to make the most of it. I spent half of the time miserable, but half of the time having a lot of fun. We went to Disneyland, Universal Studios, the beach, San Diego, and we hung out with her friends. I really enjoyed spending time with her friends because I have so much in common with them and I wish that I had friends like that (not that I don't love the friends I do have). So with all of that fun going on, why was I so miserable, you ask? Because of the money. So much money. On top of money, eating and I don't have a very good history. Because I was so stressed about spending money, I literally spent the entire week starving because I was too scared to spend money on food. I brought a lot of snacky food, so I ate that instead of buying food. On the bright side of that, though, I didn't eat because I was too stressed about money and not the food itself , which would have been the case in the past. Praise God for that. To wrap that up, I could not wait to get on that plane back to Ohio, which is really sad because I would love to stay in Cali forever if I wasn't so stressed about money. And then I returned home...and the depression began. I can't put my finger on what exactly sparked it, but I have become insanely depressed, more so than I have felt in years. Very unfortunate since I also just got out of a forever long funk and finally beginning to feel happy. While I don't know what caused the depression, I do know why I feel depressed. I hate the way I look. HATE. Call me a typical anorexic, but I'm fat. Well, medically, physically, "health" wise I'm not fat, but to me, I'm a house. I don't feel like I look the way that I'm supposed to. I feel too big for how I should look, and this is eating at me to the core. Every time that I look in the mirror, I either feel physically sick or I want to break down in tears. I don't want to go out and do things because I don't want people to see me. I don't want to see people from high school because I don't want them to see how big I've gotten. I've been working as much as possible because it's the only thing that takes my mind off of my body. I feel stuck because I used to be able to control my weight and appearance by starving myself, however, after going through a week of that in California, I don't want to do that ever again. I'm also still going through treatment, so I can't do that there either. All that I want to do is go on a diet. Like, that would literally make me so happy. What I need to do is start working out so that I can get toned and everything, but I don't know what to do or how to do it, and quite frankly, I hate working out. I'm way out of shape and I get bored easily. That's more of a "suck it up and get over it" situation, but it's what it is right now. Right now, I just wish I never would have left Lee to go into treatment. At the same time, though, I'm thankful I did because if I hadn't, I'd be dead. What a double-edged sword. People often say "would you rather be fat and happy or skinny and sad?" Well, right now I'm fat and sad so where does that get me? Exactly. I feel more sad now than I did when I was incredibly sick. I don't plan on changing, though. I still plan on following my meal plan and trying to get through this. Still, I'd rather be skinny than healthy. I could care less about being healthy. I've learned that eating disorders suck and they are awful, but the matter of fact is, almost every single person on the face of the earth have some sort of distortion with food or eating. So no matter where you go or who you meet, people are going to have something "disordered" about their eating. My attitude right now is who really cares if I diet? The rest of society does it, so why can't I? You see, I hate society and the media. It makes people feel like garbage and like they aren't good enough. That's why there are so many diets and exercises and eating disorders and plastic surgeries in the world. Even though I feel that way, I am falling into society's trap. This depression has made me vulnerable and mean. I've been showing the classic symptoms of a bully, where they don't like themselves so they're mean to others. In my case, it's my mom. I feel terrible every time I say something mean to my mom, but I just keep doing it. I try to avoid her as much as possible because I don't want to hurt her, which hurts me because I want to be able to talk to her without being mean. I talk to my dad a lot about what's going on, which I know also hurts my mom. Needless to say, that relationship needs major work. Now on to my faith. Well, that's a weird subject in the midst of this. I'm not mad at God, and I don't blame Him for what's going on. I still believe that there is a greater good to come out of this all. However, I'm having a hard time giving these problems up to God. When it comes down to it, I guess I don't want to. I want to feel miserable so that I can have the motivation to lose weight. In reality, I need to be in prayer and communication with God, asking Him to give me confidence and acceptance that this body is what it needs to be, and it is beautiful the way it is. Right now, though, that isn't happening. I have to do my hair or makeup to feel slightly pretty, and I feel disgusting if I wear anything other than t-shirts and gym shorts (which, I might add, hardly fit me anyway). I'm sorry that this isn't a very happy or inspiring post. It may be even down right depressing or triggering. However, this is what recovery looks like with the ups and downs. This is a major down, but with that, there will be a major up. I don't know when that will be or what it will look like, but I have faith that God is going to move in my life. I just hope that it's soon because this stage of life really stinks.