It's been years since I've blogged here. Its been a busy few years. Separation, going back to work full-time, Sandy, Divorce hell, fighting to keep my home, new job, new (un)marital status, new love, losing my best friend, and as always...the old demons / old fight.
This blog was my cathartic place once. It was a place to release it all...and maybe it can be that again. My life is on the upswing for sure...but even after 5 yrs in recovery...I still struggle. One would think that it would get easier every day further into one's recovery. In some ways that is very true. Until it's not. Then we're screwed. :-/
How do we explain to "the others" the way ED makes us feel broken and angry and sad and conflicted and powerless...while knowing still, how happy and loved and proud and strong we actually are? I mostly do a shitty job of it; ask my boyfriend. I come off like a moody and confused, destructive and extremely fragile crazy lady during most of my crisis moments. (poor guy) When we first started dating...I divulged. First date actually...and his response was basically something to the effect of he having had experience with an eating disordered person. 'Twas familiar ground, he thought...but not truly. In fact, despite my efforts to share, educate, and communicate with him...his actions rarely feel sensitive towards me in my recovery. I love him truly...he is the best man i have ever loved. Amazing, tender, smart, funny, sexy and so in love with me (and vice versa) but mostly just oblivious to supporting me in my recovery. This is probably common among addiction afflicted families. But it hurts to feel like everything you have shared and asked your partner for help with, has gone in one ear and never registered within that One you consider your lifeline.
Then the disappointment and feeling of solitude sets in. As if no one gets it. No one cares. No one ever will. Except ED. Awwww shit. I feckin' hate ED!
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