Sorry for the blog hiatus. Last week was insane at work, and I ended up working 40 hours in 4 days, which was the worst; however, it meant I didn't need to take any PTO on Friday. I just got a free day off, so that was great.
This weekend, I made a trip up to Wisconsin to surprise my best friend for her 30th birthday. My therapist has been discussing the idea of self compassion with me a lot lately, especially because I tend to continually do things for others instead of myself. So after the crazy week at work, this trip could not have come at a better time. I spent a lot of time with my best friends and family all weekend. It was really a good way to get back to a better perspective on my recovery and where I am in this process.
The benefit of having true best friends that know you inside and out is that I trust them enough to be honest with me. While my eating disorder tells me things that I perceive are true, they are typically completely and totally false. Friends will be gentle in telling you the truth and use it to help you in the long run.
So, when a friend of mine pulled me aside this weekend and said, "Heidi, I am really concerned about you. I want to know if you are truly doing okay," I knew that she could see that I have been doing overly well. I, of course, said that I have been doing okay with good and bad days. She said, "Are you having more bad days lately? Because when you bent over, I could see every rib in your back." For me, that was really difficult to hear. My eating disorder voice said, "Yes. All that restricting we've been doing everyday is making you thin and more beautiful because of that." My healthy mind said, "Woah bitch. That is NOT good." So, what do I do with that?
This was honestly the wake up call I needed. My treatment team has really been pushing me about my lack of progress so far. I have been back in IOP 2 months already. In those 2 months, I have struggled with so many things. I still can't seem to complete my meal plan. I have lost weight, not maintained or gained. I have stomach/GI issues multiple times a week. I felt my depression and anxiety were so bad that I turned to psych meds to help myself. All of those things have made things really brutal, but I have made some progress.
I have not been restricting as much. I have begun sharing my timeline and actually beginning to feel a lot of my trauma, which I have never done. I am learning how to blame others for things they have done to me. I have learned how to handle things not in my control, even if I don't give up control everytime. It's progress.
Driving home, I was able to reflect on the weekend and what I need to keep doing. The hardest part about coming home is looking at what you have to leave behind. But I am coming back to things in St Louis. I have a job and an apartment that give me the freedom I need to continue my journey independently. I have the support of family and friends near and far. I have a treatment center that has wonderful staff and people I get to share this journey with. I am spending time with a wonderful guy that is supportive in this journey (and super cute). I have a new life in St Louis. It's not an easy life. It's not my dream life. It's something new and different though. Do I miss Milwaukee and my friends there? Yes, but it is not the place for me right now at this point in my recovery.
All I can do is take things one day at a time, and the place for me to do that right now is St Louis. The journey continues...
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