Oh, these times are hard…

You know, I think a deep part of me believed that when I was truly recovered, I would have a rainbow spreading from ear to ear, cute little pink daises growing out of my hair, permanent sunshine falling on my shoulders, bunnies hopping around my feet, bluebirds zagazigging round my arms singing a tune that sounds suspiciously like Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah… you get the picture. And sure, I have most of these things most of the time, but not 24/7.  I used to feel as if, to be truly recovered, nothing could be wrong. Consequently, since life will never be 100% okay, I don’t think I’ve given myself enough credit for how far I’ve come.

I do not have an eating disorder any longer. I haven’t for a while. It’s such a relief to remember that, to truly embrace it; I am beyond that time in my life. I do not have those thoughts anymore. I am mostly in the sunshine, and now I can hold hands with food in peace. Food and I have come to terms with each other, and I know because I am no longer afraid of portion sizes, peanut butter, or …cake.

Me and cake go way back. That’s saying something. Yupp. Food and me, we’re alright.

All that’s left are those last inches towards forgiveness. Self-compassion. Looking myself in the eye and knowing I am a worthwhile person, that I, MYSELF, believe that I am a worthwhile person.

Because I am.

I am a worthwhile person. I deserve to run, laugh, jump, cry, scream, make mistakes, be stupid, and love so hard that I think I’ll burst. I am healthy, I am alive, I am so blessed and I want to use what I have been given and turn myself around; turn others around; turn the world around. I want to move on; I want to get past this… I want to shine so brightly others will see me and say, “Look, she did it. I’ll follow her light.” I want to wake up one morning and feel like all my darkest moments, all my most hateful thoughts, and all my self-harming were just part of a very long nightmare.

I’ll wake up and feel as though it was all just a bad dream.

Every day it fades away, but I couldn’t do it without the support I am getting.  The recovery center I’m at, the groups that I’m in, the girls that share their most painful insecurities to help further my recovery, my mother who holds me as I’m breaking down and reminds me it will be okay, my teachers who allow me to turn assignments in late because I didn’t have time to study, my grandmother who drives me to therapy, my father who helped me get my license so I’ll have some freedom, my brother who calls to check up on me, my girlfriends who listen, all my friends who make me feel loved, my dogs who are always happy to see me, my Panda bear who stares at me with faded eyes and reminds me how much life I have left to live…

All the way down to the small teeny tiny pills I take every morning. Every single bit of support has allowed me to grow as large as I have today, I feel gigantic, and it’s wonderful! I feel like I’m towering over the darkness, the eating disorder past, the negativity. The clouds are around my shoulders and the sun’s weaving in my hair, and sure it rains sometimes, but the difference is that now I can deal with it, I CAN SURVIVE and be okay because…

I feel almost whole.

I haven’t felt this close to whole in… a long time.

(via jpleiadesh)