I’m doing OK in my recovery and eating. I’m feeling less restless with the recovery and feeling slightly better about the bloating and discomfort. I’ve come to accept that I can’t just stubbornly eat broccoli every day, and I can’t down La Croix all day long without suffering from terrible gas discomfort. So, I’ve tempered those things, even those things that feel otherwise “healthy”. I’m feeling slightly better, but not as well as I think I should feel. Who knows.
I’m trying to embrace intuitive eating. What I’ve realized is that my eating is wildly varied from day to day. Some days are very heavy eating days–like today. Other days, I just don’t feel that hungry. It’s weird to me, when I’ve spent a lifetime chasing “consistency.”
I realize that recovery is relentless. That’s a word that doesn’t feel particularly positive, but to me, recovery doesn’t feel particularly positive. It’s bloating and feeling fat and hating parts that I see in the mirror and eating anyhow. It’s sitting with the uncomfortable feelings and keeping the food down and just doing it day after day, regardless of how it feels. In the grand scheme, it feels good–or, at least, better than the alternative.