New beginnings??? QUESTION MARK

I just got the mail. Inside was a large envelope from Palouse Properties. I just about wet myself.
It brought up such a feeling of dread/anticipation/fear/excitement/I WANT TO THROW UP!!!!!
Inside this seemingly harmless little envelope is the contract for a lease for an apartment in Moscow. Which means me. going back to Moscow. Living on me own. Paying for bills. Paying for food. :/
Most importantly it means me...taking care of myself. DOING this recovery thing. for reals. :/ I'm terrified.
What if I fail? What if I give up and let ED win? Am I strong enough? Am I ready? Will I ever know?
Prayers appreciated. Cause who knew that such a lil' white envelope could scare the pants right off a meh!
:/ I'm going to blow into a small paper bag now...

Fail~

I feel like the failed anorexic. I feel like I will never be able to starve myself the way others do. Torture myself enough. Be small enough. I feel like all the people I met in rehab are going backwards. Losing weight. Going back into treatment. Walking the thin line of death once again. And I'm actually angry and disgusted with myself. And for the fact that I am at home and...well cant. I eat food. I crave things. I indulge. I feel like a glutton. I feel weak. I feel ashamed and guilty for the fact that I'm not running or purging. I feel ED screaming inside me telling me how out of control I am. What a failure I am. Flesh. Skin. This all feels so wrong.

Thanksgiving....

DUN DUN DUN

Thanksgiving~ Turkey Day~ They day the Pilgrims and Indians celebrated for the bounty the Lord had provided for them. The day people eat themselves into a food coma. The day I watch the Macy's day parade and see the Rockefeller Rockets performing and think...if only I looked like that...instead of the giant turkey float....and then hold an intense grudge on them and their mankind. The ONE day that I kinda wish I could erase from the Holiday Hall of Fame. For those of you who knows me, you know why.

Three years ago on Thanksgiving night, my dad had a heart episode that sent him to the ER on Thanksgiving night until 4 am. Then to open heart surgery he went two months later after the holidays. Two years ago, our neighbor had a heart issue that landed him in the ER and us watching their two boys. Last Thanksgiving, I was so deep into my eating disorder it is embarrassing. I came home from school ragged, ran in feet of snow at 6 am despite a dislocated knee injury I had exacerbated since September, pretended all was fine and then on Thanksgiving night got slightly way MORE than tipsy in front of my dad and brothers after our first thanksgiving without my mom there. I spent the night sitting on the coach regretting how sick I felt and barely remember somehow shoveling off our driveway before slipping into bed and sleeping off all the regret. Only to awake in the morning and begin the vicious cycle again. A long string of scarring Thanksgivings are haunting me to say the least. Holidays are hard for me. Not only because now I am dealing with a broken family and all that entails, but my Eating Disorder likes to rear its ugly head in a big and bad way. For many, the holidays are a time to indulge with no real mental capacity going into it. For me, the voices already in my head telling me what a cow I am scream even louder. Plus, the fiasco's and memories that are associated with this holiday and me are not pleasant.

That is why this year I VOW it will be different. After going to treatment not long after the holidays last year, I am so thankful to be here with my family (regardless of how screwed up we are). I am thankful for all the faithful people I have praying for me-family and friends. This year has been challenging to say the least. OK. It has been excruciating. But it is through the hard times that we grow, through the challenges that we realize, well at least I am not where I was last year at this time. Or better yet, dead. I can barely wrap my head around it. I think I am invincible. Nothing could stop me. Or could it? I shutter to think of the possibility that one thing could have ended it all if it had continued- and that was myself. A slow suicide…

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Inside I feel the anxiety and torment spinning. However, I want this year to be different. I am different. I have tools. I have the power. ED does not. My ED voice is still loud. Right now I hear it screaming at how lazy I am, how I SHOULD be running at 6am and blah blah blah. But it takes greater strength to do recovery. I could choose the “easy” out. Or I could choose recovery. Choose to turn my back on those voices and use strength to NOT do what I think I should…which turns out is waaaaay harder for me than just following my addiction. Crap.

I am so thankful for a God who forgives me, though I still have not come to forgive myself. For parents who have stood by me, who have watched me falter, yet have given me the time, space, and capacity to get back up and start over. For friends who are always there despite how closed off I allow myself to be. Tomorrow night I will just be thankful if we make it through in one peace. I will try to take the focus off the food. I will be thankful for life.

WANTED: Guidance~

I don’t even know. My mind is going a million hours a minute- I want to scream and cry like a two year old and beat on something with my fists until I bleed. This would result in me 1. Looking like a two year old 2. Looking insane and 3. Looking like an insane two year old. Yikes.

I just got out with my dietitian. Wonderfulness. NOT. Ugh. Food. Weight. Meal plans. I have a head ache and I’m grouchy. It is THEN that my father decides to open up the doors to the future and discuss my plans for heading back to school…sometime…within the next hundred years.  My heart wants to go and be out on my own, to be FREE. Now, freedom is a funny thing. Because every time I gain it, I seem to sabotage myself and use it to ED’s advantage. Keen. My dad opened up with stating that I ultimately obviously decide when I will go back to school, but he FEELS that I am not ready to head back this spring. That I am still dealing with ED crap HARD and need to really think about if I am ready to go back or not. If I would be using it as an “out” or if I could really keep going on with recovery. And the truth is I DON’T FREAKIN KNOW! I can’t even fathom having to stay at home and live here cleaning my brother’s pee off the toilets and scrubbing dishes at work for another year. The thought makes me want to die. What a sad, sad life poor stupid girl who can’t pull your shiz together. I feel stagnant here. Suffocated. Under a microscope. Lonely. Depressed. The thought of being in a little apartment with my friend is so enticing. Like ooooh we would have so much fun. But it is so scary too. What if I fail AGAIN? What if I am not strong enough yet? I don’t want to land right where I was this time last year. But what if I can succeed? Will I ever know? AHHHH I am so confused. So sad. And probably not making any sense. Basically its 1. Go back to school or 2. Live here at home STILL. Black and white right? So life is grey. I KNOW this to be true. So what is the grey answer? There has to be some compromise somewhere? Something I can do that will help me with recovery AND make me happy and feel like I am moving forward with my life. Ugh. I don’t know what to do. Right now I feel like I am standing outside in the snow…everything is spinning and whirling around me. Its foggy and cold and I JUST WANT TO PUNCH THE SNOW IN ITS FACE. Lol. Ok. Sorry. I need words of wisdom from those who are brave enough to read this. My mind and body are screaming for HELP though Im too weak to say it. So I will whisper it and hope for some burning bush, some small glimmer of hope for my blea future~ help