I think I’ve said this before: in recovery – from an eating disorder especially – some days are a lot easier than others. While some days go by without a disordered thought or behavior (much like the ways when we’re in the thick of our disorders there are some days that go by without a thought of eating or a thought of binging or purging), the longer that you’re in recovery – at least it seems to me – the more that it’s possible to have a day come around where all of a sudden the thoughts are back. What do you do then?

Anyone?

Because here’s the thing: I’ve been in an extremely solid recovery for just about 8 years now. Even when things have really sucked – when I lost two cats and a close friend in less than two months’ time – and I wasn’t necessarily inclined to keep pushing forward, I don’t think that that recovery slipped at all, despite the potential for it.

But I’m not entirely convinced that the ground I’m on right now is steady. So, for the sake of full disclosure:

I’m starting to wonder whether or not the thoughts associated with having an eating disorder are becoming a part of my day-to-day again.

It’s not that they are the “garden-variety disordered thoughts.” I’m not thinking anything like:

• If I lost xx pounds, everything would be better – I could go after a better job, I’d spend more time with friends, I’d have a better relationship.
• If I were to cut back on xx meal(s) each day, I could have more money to spend on books, concerts, movies, etc.
• If I were thinner/more attractive, I’d be smarter or my ideas would be taken more seriously at the office or in the classroom.

Right now, for me, the thoughts are less about “thin” than they ever used to be. The thoughts aren’t exclusively about money – though there’s definitely a bit of that element in there – either. They aren’t about being taken seriously or about lack of opportunity in the most traditional sense either.

But I can’t deny the following:

• My body is far from where I want it to be – and binding to ensure that I’m seen outwardly as guy is destroying me. Chronic pain is starting to have an impact on my ability to do my job, to manage my emotions, and to simply function.
• Stress about money has changed the types of food that I buy and has dramatically limited the number of meals that I’m going out for with friends. The lack of social time is having an impact as well, and even though I’m making it a point to buy and prepare the foods that I want, there’s also the added stress of feeling like my partner and I aren’t sharing the work equally – mostly because I tend to be the one who gets home earlier.
• I’m feeling completely trapped by my body and my experience – and that’s starting to kill me.

These realizations occurred to me this morning while I was able to make some time to journal. At that point in time, I was thinking about the fact that this year I’ve been feeling trapped a little bit in the past. Part of this is my love of music & the fact that the live shows I’ve seen have all been put on by the bands that I got into back around then that got me thinking. Part of it is the realization that I would be in a very different place in life now if not for choices that I made then – and mostly out of fear.

But what I keep coming down to is thinking about a homeless guy who would only refer to me as young man when I was at my lowest weights and then not at all when I was in various stages of recovery. And I keep thinking that if I weighed less, maybe I’d be seen more the way that I want to be. And that fuels the fact that I know that I’m tired of living in pain – and that because of my history with anorexia, my medical team isn’t keen on prescribing pain killers and muscle relaxants that have a high risk of becoming addictive. After all, no one knows how long it will be before I’m able to afford surgery, so there’s no way to pinpoint an end date. The reason that I can’t afford surgery? Still paying off treatment for my eating disorder.

I know that anorexia isn’t going to solve a damned thing. It never does.

I know that stigma exists, and that giving into it and trying to live life around it is simply exhausting.

But I also know that it’s so tempting to look for something that I can control – especially now when it feels like I’ve got nothing working for me right now. I’m feeling a lot like I’m falling apart, and there’s no way to plan for putting myself back together because everything I’m counting on is completely outside of my control. Just living from one day o the next makes the pain worse…

…And yet there’s nothing that will be solved by giving up on recovery. Nothing at all. But hanging on to that? It just doesn’t really feel like enough either.