The last time I was here, it was all doom, gloom, weightloss, and boy issues. Now I'm back, same girl but a different point of view.
I've spent the last 3months in a treatment facility recovering from an eating disorder which nearly took everything from me. Going in, I was a broken sad excuse for a human being. Coming out, I had a light in my eyes and a hope in my chest that life was worth it all. It's been 2weeks since I've been out of rehab, and I'm back home with my parents. Life is NOT what I expected. I am not what I expected. Yes the light and hope is still there and all that jazz, but boy oh boy reality slapped me in the face like a woman scorned. I'm treading carefully around landmines and pits, and the balancing act threatens to throw me off the edge. I have my tools though, I'm fully loaded with all the equipment I need to soldier on.
So what have I learnt in 3months of treatment? It works if you work it.
What have I learnt in 2weeks at home? My recovery is my responsibilty.
I'm here to trust, risk and share.