I feel so alone. I hate this feeling. I was surrounded by friends today, which I haven’t done in a while, but I still feel a deeper loneliness. Loneliness is probably one of the most uncomfortable emotions for me to feel. When I’m lonely, I usually want so badly to binge, purge, cut, and/or drink. I won’t though. Being around old friends today actually helped me see how much progress I’ve made. One of the friends I saw today, I hadn’t seen since before going into treatment. Honestly, for years before going into treatment, my life was just a blur. I was never present. I always remained very detached because if I let myself be present, I knew I would break down. That’s why I’m glad I was hospitalized and went to treatment. I hated it in the moment. It was the hardest, most frustrating thing I’ve ever done. Sometimes I still hate this idea of recovery and just want to say fuck it all. But giving up isn’t an option, and getting help was necessary. I was given a safe place where I could break down, which allowed me to eventually come back and rebuild a life for myself. Now my goal is to make this a life that I live, not one I watch pass by.

I feel like absolute shit. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. I feel anxious and depressed. I know I need help, but I don’t know how to reach out for it. I feel painfully depressed, like a huge weight is being slowly pressed down onto my chest, but not quite hard enough to put me out of my misery. I was doing so well in recovery for a while. I can’t let these slips pull me back even further. I hate that eating disorders exist. What a frustrating, useless, addictive, harmful way of coping. I feel completely pathetic and worthless right now. I want this feeling to leave me alone. I just want to be healthy and content.

My depression is physically painful at the moment. It’s really hard to sit with. I just binged and purged after going like…three-ish weeks without. I hate myself.

I really really didn’t want to go to therapy this morning. I went anyway and cried the entire time. Sometimes those are the best and most necessary sessions.

Sometimes I think about how long I’ve struggled with disordered eating and start to feel extremely discouraged. I know I’ve come a long way though, and I have a long way to go still.

Depression is debilitating. All I do is lay around in sweatpants, not shower, either eat nothing or eat everything, and then hate myself even more for being so lazy and disgusting.

I’d like to think I’m capable of happiness…

Life is the hardest fucking thing you will ever experience.

It better be worth it.

I’m depressed. So I lie around doing nothing. Then I feel shittier about myself for being so lazy. Then I feel like a selfish asshole for complaining and feeling bad for myself when so many people have it worse. Then I hate myself more. Then I think maybe the whole world is full of selfish assholes, and that’s why there is constantly so much shit going on. Maybe there are just so many selfish assholes running this world, and the fact that I’m just a lazy selfish asshole is completely insignificant in any and every way because I’ll never make a difference in the world or even in anyone’s life because I’m so fucking lazy. And maybe I’m insignificant in any and every way. And maybe none of this matters because I’m just a lazy, selfish asshole, and I always will be because I will never be able to escape from my own head.

Sorry for the negativity. It needed to get out of my brain…and onto the internet, apparently.

My emotions are too much. I’m not sure how much longer I can handle feeling them.

I’ve been reading through my old journal from one year ago, which is when I was at my worst point in my eating disorder. Just reading how sad, angry, anxious, and confused I was makes me realize how much better I really am doing now. I was TERRIFIED of gaining weight. I am now weight restored. It is still hard to accept this body, but for the most part, I am learning to be okay with it. I was in the hospital crying while having to pick out my meals for the day. Now I regularly eat three meals a day without purging and without necessarily having to plan ahead. I don’t feel the need to immediately punish myself after eating every morsel. I don’t spend hundreds of dollars a week on food to just purge. I work and I support myself financially. I am not happy, but I am more or less content.

Anyone watch that stupid yet addicting show New Girl? I feel so lame here. But something Nick said in that show…about wanting to be in a relationship to escape from the harsh, critical monster in his head really clicked for me. I’m in a relationship. I love him very very much. But at what point am I using him to escape myself?

I realize more and more every day that recovery is work. Hard work. I’ve worked my ass off (or back on?) in recovery. I’m doing so much better, but everyday is still a struggle. Getting through each day eventually ends up being rewarding because even when I’m lazy, I don’t do well at work or school, I’m feeling lonely or pathetic, maybe I even slip with eating disorder behaviors, but no matter what, I am working hard at recovery and learning from all of the ups and downs.

I realize more and more that while it’s not ideal in the moment to “slip” frequently, it is a necessary part of the process. If I could easily stop my disordered thoughts and behaviors, I would have done it years ago. I would have saved a lot of time. I wouldn’t have lost as many years of my life, really. I tricked myself into believing that my eating disorder completely made up my identity. Trying to separate myself from this identity, this thing that I was good at, this awful thing that made me hate and hurt myself more everyday, this thing that almost took my life, has been the hardest thing I’ve had to do. Support from other people helps, but when it comes down to it, I have worked really fucking hard to get to where I am today.

You can only recover from an eating disorder and/or addiction once you allow yourself to believe that it is possible. Truth.