But You Still Have All of Me

I spent Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday in Orem, Utah in order to participate in my most recent (and by far most favourite) treatment center's alumni reunion. A bit hypocritical, I know -- and in fact, that's all I could think of while I was there. Here I was, surrounded by all these women, all my friends, who were actively working towards recovery... and the only thing I could think about was how I would be able to eat under my 650 calorie limit without arousing suspicion. The center supplied some meals, and I also ate out with some of my closer friends, and the whole time I was so angry that I had to go through this charade of having energy, being on the right track, being willing to socialize. On Thursday night I broke down in front of one of the care techs at the center, the one who had perhaps helped me the most while I was there. She was very supportive and understanding, as well as inspiring. She made me feel listened to without babying me. Of course, none of it arrested any of my behaviours, but it made me even more determined to fight with every ounce of strength I have once the sun rises on my "quit date."

Before I left, my therapist called me on my bullshit and got me to admit that I was nowhere near eating the 1500 calories a day I had promised both her and my dietician that I would. She hasn't told my dietician yet (I know this because my dad hasn't called me panicking yet), and seeing as my dietician is out of town and our next session will be by phone, I'm not sure how to best proceed with the situation. I'm going to visit my parents in just a few short weeks, at which time I'll have started recovery, so maybe I can get her to hold off on phoning my dad and just let him make the call for himself. But I'll be doing so well once I visit my parents, really I will. I'm motivated and I have hope. Each day I want more and more to be through with my eating disorder. I want to move on and never look back. I want to have a life again, not just an existence of dishonesty, illness, and deprivation. And I am NOT going back into treatment. My therapist thinks I need to. At this point, it's not even an option. I'm not spending the time or the money to do something I need to do on my own, surrounded by the motivating factors of my busy life each and every day. I really don't think there's anything I could get out of inpatient/residential treatment (aside from structure) that I don't have or know already. I also don't want to get too comfortable with treatment or depend on anything external to save me from myself. Only I can save me, and I have that power, and I know that.