Day 30
Today is the 30th day of me being sober.
I've grown to liking waking up on the weekend with a clear head; functioning excellent at work; the taste of N.A. beer.
Yes, I had a problem. And I am still a little scared to drink lest it gets out of control again.
Unfortunately, this whole test was largely brought on by my inability to see myself in the bigger picture.
I have an eating disorder. I always have and I always will. It started with anorexia at 19 and has morphed into an eating disorder of the non-specific kind.
I work out almost every day. I restrict food at work. I count calories when I can. I have a fear of holidays and parties because that means food and overconsumption and the posibility of getting "fatter".
A greater anxiety is brought on when I think of and see older pictures of myself when I was at least 20 lbs lighter. I feel like I'm drowning when I think of the prospect of never being that fit again. It took a lot of work and a lot of sacrifice. I killed relationships, I ruined jobs.
In the end, was it worth it?
No. It wasn't.
Nobody should ever go through this shit, including myself. I will probably never fully heal. I've read that those who suffer from any sort of eating disorder never do. But the best I can do is not let it affect the great things I have in front of me: a steady job, a loving boyfriend. Great friends, awesome pets.
I need to keep these all. Twenty pounds isn't worth it.
If I keep thinking that, eventually I'll believe it.
I've grown to liking waking up on the weekend with a clear head; functioning excellent at work; the taste of N.A. beer.
Yes, I had a problem. And I am still a little scared to drink lest it gets out of control again.
Unfortunately, this whole test was largely brought on by my inability to see myself in the bigger picture.
I have an eating disorder. I always have and I always will. It started with anorexia at 19 and has morphed into an eating disorder of the non-specific kind.
I work out almost every day. I restrict food at work. I count calories when I can. I have a fear of holidays and parties because that means food and overconsumption and the posibility of getting "fatter".
A greater anxiety is brought on when I think of and see older pictures of myself when I was at least 20 lbs lighter. I feel like I'm drowning when I think of the prospect of never being that fit again. It took a lot of work and a lot of sacrifice. I killed relationships, I ruined jobs.
In the end, was it worth it?
No. It wasn't.
Nobody should ever go through this shit, including myself. I will probably never fully heal. I've read that those who suffer from any sort of eating disorder never do. But the best I can do is not let it affect the great things I have in front of me: a steady job, a loving boyfriend. Great friends, awesome pets.
I need to keep these all. Twenty pounds isn't worth it.
If I keep thinking that, eventually I'll believe it.