Days like the past three remind me of why I’m in the process of applying to a residential treatment program. Days like the past three, where I use every available resource at my disposal and still find myself engaging in disordered behaviours. Days like the past three, where I wake up and actively choose to get back on the horse, only to watch it all fall apart within hours. Until, finally, I think to myself, “This is NEVER going to work.” And I consider giving up the whole thing and just letting this eating disorder kill me already.
Because this is hell. I cannot live like this and I cannot see a way out.
(Except, of course, I do. It just involves me swallowing my pride and admitting that I can’t get well without going away. Because like my counselor said, I am working HARD, but sometimes it’s just not enough in this context.)