I’m in a good place with my eating, I guess. I’m not worried about it, and I haven’t had any urges or episodes lately. I feel like I’m back on more solid ground with my recovery and that the ED voice is getting progressively weaker.
At the same time, I’m bothered that I don’t know what ACTUALLY caused me to relapse in the first place. I can see that I wasn’t as actively pursuing recovery–less blogging, less meditation, less intention in my meal planning. I also know that I was feeling burned out with recovery–it didn’t feel compelling or exciting anymore. Maybe a bit was self-sabotage, I don’t know.
In any case, I feel good about where I’m at on the recovery journey for the moment.
I don’t feel good in lots of other aspects.
I woke up this morning feeling a heightened anxiety; I know where it’s coming from. I have a lot of important stuff on my work docket this week–big performances and high-stress situations. I’m not as über-prepared as I typically am, so I’m feeling more anxious. I also always feel like this on the cusp of summer break. I am so glad for the upcoming break, but it’s a large swath of unstructured time, and I feel guilty for not being as “productive” as I am during the year. I feel guilty for wasting our money by putting my kids in camps instead of taking them on meaningful adventures or spending every moment with them (rationally, I know that these camps are best for everyone).
We’ve had a big set-back in our house building project that is frustrating and ridiculous, and in the end will cost us so much money for something that was not our fault and totally out of our control. These things make me really upset and up my anxiety level.
I’m not feeling great physically. I have gained some weight, and I simply don’t have the time or energy to get into the gym as much as I “need” to in order to get the weight off. I went for my annual exam yesterday and accidentally saw my weight on the chart, and I cannot erase the numbers from my brain. My first thought was, “This is not acceptable.” I’m having a hard time not believing that, and when I think about the numbers, I feel the tightness rising in my chest.
I don’t feel in danger of relapsing, but I also don’t feel great. Maybe it’s OK just to sit in the feelings of disappointment and anxiety and know that they’re going to be here awhile.