A Letter to Myself on a Rough Day
It’s ok. It’s okay that you’ve had a rocky week and that yesterday you found out you dropped two pounds and that you were afraid to admit to Jane that you suspected it and that it felt really good and that you really want to keep going in that direction because it’s so fucking addicting and that it’s also not fair ’cause two pounds is nothing and would be a victory for most people, but not for you, you have to put it back on, you have to get back into “weight range,” and what the fuck is a weight range anyway, why do you have to have one, that’s so dumb, just let your body be, why can’t you let your body just be, and holy shit, of course the one week you feel solid in your body you find out you lost weight.
It’s ok that at times like these you wish you didn’t have a treatment team because controlled restricting–not a full on relapse but controlled restricting–would be so much easier if you didn’t have eyes on you, and it’s also okay that you kind of feel sad and kind of feel like a failure because you were in such a pro-recovery, fuck-the-eating-disorder mindset last week, and now you’ve been triggered and you’ve been tempted and you remember how good it feels, and it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay to be exactly where you are because there’s nowhere else you should be.
You deserve a shoutout for the past few days. Props to you for pushing through the depression–for dancing at Trombone Shorty, for going to lunch with your boyfriend and letting him see your not-so-pretty parts, for not letting yourself push him away, your greatest trick. Props to you for rallying last night and going to his showcase where you ended up having a beautiful time.
Props to you for acknowledging your current state and admitting that the weight loss feels good and that you’re devastated to compensate for it and that you’re proud you can still shed pounds like nobody’s business and that you’re pissed that you can’t anymore because you’re done with that, remember?
It’s okay that you couldn’t get through the night without popping an Ativan ’cause it’s the only way the fear would subside and it’s totally fine, everything is totally fine, just be nice to yourself, because you are totally fine.
Congrats on watching “Working Girl” last night instead of exercising when you felt like soggy oatmeal.
This is what self-compassion is: yes. Self-compassion is watching young Alec Baldwin fucking the wrong girl.
It’s okay that you feel like shit for not running and that you really just want to be thin and happy because obviously being thing makes you happy because when you’re thin you can forget everything and feel nothing, and it’s okay that you betrayed yourself yesterday by doing the healthy thing because guess what, that wasn’t a betrayal, that was a favor, and you’ll see that one day, and you’ll be proud of yourself, like I’m proud of you now.
Everything is okay, it’s all going to be okay, just keeping on going where you’re going, keep on doing what you’re doing, keep on loving you like I love you, keep on letting go of the eating disorder. You do not need an eating disorder. You can live the life you deserve.
You’re a fighter.
Keep on fighting.
You are worth it.
In closing, I would like to say that the opinions expressed here are strictly my own and may not resonate with everyone. Take what you like and leave the rest. If this post spoke to you, I invite you to share it, as these messages are for all.