Monday, January 26, 2015

Making ED mad

Most recently I've been feeling low and experiencing harmful thoughts about restricting, cutting and death.  I'm physically fine, I haven't given into those thoughts.  I feel like a hypocrite to promote recovery and body acceptance and self love, when right now I want to return to the very behaviors that led me into treatment in the first place.  I told my husband yesterday that I'm disappointed in myself because I was doing so well and now...I'm not, as if all that hard work doesn't mean anything.  But he reminded me my hard work isn't gone and that I will have slips and falls.  

I keep questioning, why am I having so much trouble right now?  Overall this past year I've done rather well in recovery.  I've been told on more than one occasion that I seem happier and brighter and that just makes me smile even more!

Then I realized what's going on: I've made ED mad.  All my successes, especially my newest one, smashing my scale, makes ED weaker.  He's like some bad exboyfriend that doesn't get the hint I'm not coming back to you, it's OVER.  But now he's stalking me with a vengeance, trying to make my life seem out of control so I'll go back to him and remember the "good times".

Dear ED,

This probably won't be the last letter I write.  I'm once again telling you that it's over, we are done.  If I go back to you I know you'll end up killing me.  If I could legally get a restraining order against you I would do it in a heartbeat.  I've had enough of your bullshit and abuse.  I may feel weak right now, but I know what it's like to feel strong.  There are so many things I want to do with my life and you're just a fucking control freak.

I know about the others.  I know about all your affairs and I'm warning you to leave them alone.  I've been starting a revolution, I've been calling you out on your bullshit, I've been laughing in your face and you can't handle it.  Who's the weak one now?  In the end you're going to be all alone.

P.S.  I've got an army so you better watch yourself.  You're going down, jackass.

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