Today marks 100 days since my last purging episode. I’m struck by any number of things:
- I’m honestly a little disheartened that things don’t feel much different. I don’t know why I sent this arbitrary number and assumed (hoped) that when I reached it, I’d have made enough progress to feel markedly “different” in some way.
- On the other hand, things ARE different. While it’s still hard every single day, I now feel like throwing up my food just isn’t an option anymore.
- I still want to purge. A lot.
- Most of the time, I feel better. My cheeks are less puffy, my eyes less swollen.
- I had secretly hoped that maybe once I “evened out” my eating without the binges, I would magically shrink to waif-like status. Nope.
- I hate admitting this, but I probably wouldn’t have gotten this far without my therapist and my self-imposed accountability to this blog.
- I feel elated that I’ve made it this far and know that I’ll continue this journey.
- I feel exhausted that I’m *only* this far and that there’s a whole undetermined expanse of time ahead of me.
Keeping up the good fight. Day 100.