Recovery

Recovery is shitty.

Don't get me wrong. I love that I have "beat" my eating disorder. But recovery really sucks sometimes. 

I find myself daydreaming of my sick times. Daydreaming of binges, restrictions, starvation, calorie counting, diet obsessing, over exercising. All of it. And often times it actually seems fun. 

Somebody I spoke with recently said "it gives me something to do" when talking about calorie counting. I couldn't help but relate to that, agree with that, and be a bit envious. 

In this haze of post pregnancy life I feel like I have nothing that is mine anymore. My existence as chelsea, just chelsea is gone. And in those moments- I dream about my eating disorder. The glorified portions of it. The "good" things I got out of it. In those moments it's hard to see the sickness for what it is. 

But I'm "recovered" now. Even if I were to engage in any eating disorder behaviors- they wouldn't work. They would only end up making me feel worse. The thrill is gone. The high I used to get when I hadn't eaten for days is a thing of the past. Sometimes that makes me sad. Sometimes I miss the way it felt. The so-called control I had.

Because even though it was destructive- it was mine.