I’ve been home for 5 full days now, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I just don’t fucking know.
I thought that things would be easier coming home this time around, that something I learned in those 8 long weeks would have stuck with me enough to spark a real change. But so far, that is not proving to be the case. And I don’t understand why.
Or maybe I do. I mean, I have a little bit of insight, I think. It’s hard for me to admit, because it requires being vulnerable, and I know that was what I wanted to be on this blog – raw, authentic, and vulnerable. So fuck it. I find it so hard to change my behaviors because I’m afraid that the more I eat, the less worth I’ll have as a person. If I don’t eat, if I become smaller, take up less space in the world, then maybe I’ll finally be worth something. Because right now I feel like a worthless piece of shit.
I hate that I tie my worth to what I eat, and as a byproduct, the number on the scale. And I don’t know how to break that connection. And I’m afraid that until I do, nothing will really change. Not permanently, anyway. So I just feel stuck. Stuck and defeated and a bit hopeless, if I’m honest.
The eating disorder voice has been so loud this past weekend. It’s a bit quieter when I’m at work, keeping myself busy, but nights and weekends…they’re not very fun. Most of my coworkers are looking forward to Thanksgiving break, but I’m already ready for it to be over with. And Christmas break…I’m absolutely dreading. The last thing I need right now is an endless amount of time unsupervised in my own head.
So grateful tomorrow is Monday.
