I should tell you that every major relapse I’ve had has been proceeded by one thing: stepping on the scale. Yes, technically I step on the scale three nights a week at program, but I have not had a scale at home in over a year because I tend to be a little obsessive about the number.
Last night at program, I was told my weight. I, rather loudly, looked at my therapist and said, “You have GOT to be kidding me.” I then proceeded to cry for the next hour while my therapist stared at me. I skipped dinner at program (I did eat a little later when I was out drinking with a friend), and then spent the last hour of program planning my attack. Planning, to be clear, how I was going to lose this extra weight.
This morning, I dragged out an old scale deep from the recesses of my closet and hid it in my room. I stepped on and made a goal for how much lower that number should be before the weekend is over. I’ve planned ways to avoid eating, hide food I should be eating, etc. etc. etc.
Friends, I’ve put entirely too much time, energy, and money into this recovery game to go back now. But it is SO SO SO tempting.
So what I’m asking for is this: blow up this comments section please. Tell me what you love about recovery. Tell me what you’ve seen in me since I’ve been in recovery. Tell me your own story. Encourage me to stick to my @#($*&@#$ meal plan. Remind me to take my meds. Tell me you love me. Whatever.
I (and my recovery) would greatly appreciate it.