I haven’t got much to say today apart from that it’s four years since I made the choice to start eating again. To sit in the Dining Room on a blistering hot day and to finish the food in front of me.
It wasn’t perfect and it’s not perfect. It’s not always even happy. I think there is a massive misconception in the hype surrounding eating disorder recovery that we’re all following the yellow carb road to eternal joy; it’s not like that. Recovery gives you back a normal life, and that involves a little bit of everything. It’s like standing outside when you’ve been stuck indoors for ages, though – it might be cold and rainy and windy, but also there are times when the Sun’s out. And, sometimes, it’s OK to be able to feel the rain.
What it does mean is that you’re not miserable, cold and hungry all the time. What it does mean is that you have the capacity to make choices. What it does mean is that you can have your family back and your friends back and your hobbies back and your future back.
It’s not perfect. It’s not even all that wonderful sometimes. Sometimes, I’m really angry with myself that I allowed myself the freedom of emotions, wishing that I’d stayed in the shelter of numbness.
Equally it’s not easy. Your illness will tell you that you are weak; that you are ruining everything; that everyone will hate you. Your illness will tell you that this is not for you; that you’re different to everyone else; that people who tell you it’s worth it are lying and that you’re making a terrible mistake.
But, four years on, I can look back and tell you it is worth it.