My therapist says that when we talk about things that hurt me I look at her with frightened eyes, as if I’m afraid she will wound me.
Check-list for when I feel out of control:
I love my psychiatrist so much. I walk out of his office every time not only feeling like a worthy person but also feeling as though I can tackle every problem and lead a balanced life. It’s as though just by talking to me he realigns my skewed brain and everything makes so much sense.
My choice now clear:
go on or go under.
Hope, in arrears,
fades to far details.
Updated therecoverynetwork.
I feel poorly abandoning the site for the last few months; letting links expire as URLs are shuffled about and not answering messages for requests. The reason being was that I was struggling with my own mental health issues (not ED) and needed some space. But now I am in full networking mode so send in your requests, requests, requests!!
P.S. I am very particular about blogs that I add to the site. I am looking for blogs dedicated to personal entries about their ED recovery experience; the daily challenges, victories, etc. I rarely, if ever, add inspiration-blogs; blogs of pictures with recovery quotes and what not. I think that these blogs are fantastic and have their purpose but this is not what I created therecoverynetwork for. So please don’t be hurt if you’re not added to the site.
Nominate, request, etc. !!
Caught myself streamlining straight-ahead for disaster.
Not this time, mind.
Dearest self,
Now would be a good time to practice emotional regulation.
Thank you.
I get to see my therapist tomorrow and all I can think of is thank goodness. It has been way too long; I kept on bumping the appointment further and further back due to double-booking and now I feel a great need to completely unload. I won’t go this long again without seeing her but it also makes me realize how dependent I am upon her. I need this session tomorrow to make sense of these thoughts and prioritize my life.
I have been tracing certain memories for the last few days and covering myself with them like a warm and comforting blanket. I miss the treatment centre, not enough to want to go back but enough to appreciate the time I spent there and the discoveries I have made within myself and with others. It would never be the same, if I went back, nothing can ever truly happen twice. So I bathe in my memories, carry them in my pocket as a buffer against my negativity, against my self-criticism because they show me that I can be good, that I can be loved, that I am a person of value.
Today I officially graduated from the ED program. It has been one whole year and one heck of a journey. [3 months of ‘readiness’ group, 3 months of intensive treatment in the treatment center and then 6 months of follow up group] I have made some of the biggest decisions of my life and some of the closest friends I think I will ever have. I can honestly say I have become a better person because of this. It has shown me who I truly am and what my potential is —without sickness, without disorder; what I can be. I will never ever forget you.
I have a well, deep, clear, and tartly sweet, of living. All the names, already, and the places. And I am nowhere near the ending. I feel, I must make a list, a diagram, a will, a tribute, to all of you who have fed my growing.
-Sylvia Plath