It appears I wrote a lot – feel free to skip to my last paragraph
A year and a half. I’m measuring from that day where I chose not to just “fix” the anxious feelings I had, and instead sat huddled under my blankets and wrote in my journal and took naps, and fearfully went down to the kitchen and ate something then ran back upstairs to my room again to hide in a fort of pillows, showered and brushed my hair, hid back under the blankets, and cried at one point which is something I never did, and watched my favourite childhood movie. And you know what? I got through it and the feeling didn’t last forever. Since then I’ve messed up many times and got back on track, I’ve worried so much it gave me a health problem which has now gotten much better, I’ve seen a therapist twice (so fun!), read some wonderful books, and become a more accepting loving human being.
Fast forward to yesterday (Christmas) : I had a lot of food and sweets. Felt a little upset for messing up, but mostly felt there was something MISSING. I felt like I was high (sugar affects me a lot!) and was missing my intuition and understanding of myself and others. I couldn’t wait to be back to normal, to be able to feel my feelings even if it means hiding in my room with my face in my hands (I get overwhelmed by both good and bad feelings). I’ll mess up again, I’m sure, but it’s rare
To me, recovery is everything I’ve been doing in my life. Learning this whole other dimension of life (feelings). I am still learning how to truly be present a lot, and how to let go of the loss of things I could have done if I hadn’t been eating/worrying/pitying myself/daydreaming about things I don’t plan to do. Maybe recovery feeling the loss of those days, the ones you never really were present for. And it’s also the moments when you look down the street on a misty day and realize you’ve walked down this street for years and never paid attention, but you did today and that makes a difference!