Right now I am sitting at the top of the stairs in my partner’s parents’ home. Yesterday was 10 hours spent in a car, driving across state lines and talking about the chaos of my family - the trainwreck of conversations all steered back to my mother’s grief or mourning (she went so far as to compare having put two cats down this year to losing a mother, a sister in law and a brother in less than 6 months and I was horrified). And yet. . .
And yet things that would have bothered me before didn’t. Yes, I was upset by the fact that things that I had said to my grandmother that she swore would go no further got right back to my mother - probably within a day of my last visit there. But hey, whatever, I’d expected as much.
Some days I’m just not sure of how to get my thoughts together, today is one of those days.
More or less this post is just a statement, a testament that recovery - letting go of the eating disordered behaviors - makes getting through even the most difficult things a little easier.
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