3 a.m.

3 am

Well, it’s 3 a.m. and it’s been a long night. I’ve been battling the latest edition of the plague since Sunday, and the relatively well-behaved if incredibly sore throat that had started everything off has morphed into one of those unruly ailments that come with coughing. I’m currently trying to tame the hacking with one of the horrid-tasting but helpfully mentholated cough drops that boyfriend was wonderful enough to bring me earlier.

My emotions are pretty much off. I’m set to a pretty much constant state of “meh,” my physical symptoms basically overriding any emotional presence. As of today (well, I suppose it’s yesterday now…) I’ve been able to feel a bit of mild frustration and a few small waves of happiness, but no major ups or downs.

No, instead I’ve been preoccupied with the stupid acid reflux that’s been kicking my ass, four hours after I last ate anything. Come on, that’s not fair! Aren’t my esophagus and I supposed to be in the clear by now? Given the burning in my chest that persisted for well over two hours, apparently not. And then there’s the weird leg-twitchy-thing that decided to show up again tonight. And the mild body aches. And the restlessness. And of course, the insomnia. Oh joy.

But I think what’s really bothering me is that I have no fucking clue where I am when it comes to recovery. I feel like I’ve just been ignoring my eating disorder, trying to pretend like it’s not there. I currently don’t have a therapist. I’m about to make a med change. I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone about how things are going. I feel like I’ve just been going the route of “sit up and shut up.” Like I suddenly don’t have permission to not be okay anymore, and just have to keep things all bottled up inside, hide how I’m feeling from everyone because suddenly there was this mandate that I must be okay. I think some of this might be backlash from my book signing – everyone’s been telling me how brave of me it is to put everything out there, how I’m so much a stronger person for everything I’ve gone through – but I think that’s the catch. Everybody else is treating this like it’s past tense. Something that I’ve gone through. Not something that’s still going.

And I am still fighting. All the triggers, all the temptations, all the decisions I still have to struggle to make – they’re all still there. Every day. All the time. And at times I just feel so incredibly overwhelmed – but I feel like nobody notices that I’m drowning.

I’m trying to be okay, really. I don’t want to just sit around feeling sorry for myself. Maybe it’s just that it’s late and I’m sick and I’m tired. Maybe it’s that it’s 3 a.m.and still night time. Maybe I just need it to be morning.

 

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