A year from now

The year 2024 has been filled with more change than probably any other year of my life. I’ve had a few different jobs, tried a semester of school, moved 3 times, and committed to recovery, which required a complete 180 in almost every aspect of how I lived every day. Lately, however, my circumstances have become extremely resemblant of exactly how they were when this year began.

I am back to living in the same space, working the same job, and surrounded by a lot of the same people. It’s funny how familiar it feels while also feeling brand new.

In January of this year, I looked at my life and saw pointlessness. I was robotic, living each day the same as the one before.

Get up

Exercise

Go to work

Come home

Isolate in my room

Fall asleep.

I did everything alone. Did everything obsessively thinking about food, and calories, and numbers, and punishments.

When I look back, most things are clouded and foggy from that time, but I remember how tired I was. I remember how miserable I felt. How my body ached constantly and my brain never shut up. I longed for friendship and connection but didn’t have the energy to engage with anyone or anything. I lived for the sole purpose of being as absolutely small as I could be.

Small is a really good way to describe what an eating disorder makes your life. When your body is put into a state of deprivation and survival most things assume a subsidiary role to just staying alive. There isn’t a lot of room for hobbies, friends, hopes, dreams, fun, or happiness. In my experience, any energy I could muster went directly to the actions and behaviors that would appease my illness.

Gaining some of those secondary joys of life back was a huge catalyst in my consistency with recovery. An eating disorder does give you a lot. I know that it does. I will never act like anorexia didn’t make me feel a lot better in a lot of ways, but as I compare my current circumstances with those of a year ago, it is undeniable that I am now living much closer to the way that I believe I was intended to.

As I mentioned, I am back to living in the same place I was in in January. My childhood best friend and her husband own the home that I rent the basement of. Last year, I remember spending a lot of time feeling guilty and avoiding them because I couldn’t stop the behaviors I was doing. I don’t feel guilty anymore. I don’t feel like I have to hide from them. I’m able to spend time with them and their girls and enjoy the small and simple moments together.

I am back to working at the same place and am surrounded by a lot of the same people. This time, I am more patient, and I have more tolerance for everyone I interact with. I don’t feel as frustrated with customers or coworkers who don’t want to do dishes. I laugh more, smile more, and value more the opportunity I have to work at a job I love.

My best friend, who would visit me there all the time, is now my boyfriend. A year ago, I was too sick to have a healthy relationship with anyone. Now I have the ability to care about and prioritize a person over my eating disorder. He and I are both really happy together, and instead of going to work only to subdue my OCD, I now want to work to support our future and the plans that we have.

I find myself going to parties and activities. I can sit down to watch a movie without feeling the urge to get up and move. I like meeting new people again and making new friends. I’m not as scared of spontaneity and can better rationalize my fears.

A year ago, I never truly believed I would get to this place. I felt so trapped and helpless and afraid. Afraid of never getting better and probably more afraid of actually getting better. Most times I didn’t want to give up my eating disorder. I still don’t always want to. But what I have gained from recovery is something I don’t want to give up even more.

I don’t want to lose who I am again. I don’t want the lights to go off and the robot version of myself to turn back on. I don’t want to lose the people I love and the connections I have with them. I don’t want my life to be small.

If you are reading this and you feel similar to what I am describing, my encouragement to you is to imagine the things you want a year from now. Where do you want to be? Who do you want to feel more connected to? What dreams can you think of that don’t involve a smaller body? (I know this is hard. Honestly, my #1 desire is still to change my body. But there are other things you want too. Focus on those) Thinking about a lifetime of recovery is overwhelming, so try thinking in terms of a year.

I know it is possible. Please believe me when I tell you that

it.

is.

possible.

It is so damn hard but

it.

is.

possible.

One day at a time, one meal at a time, you can make progress. Almost a year into this I still have a long way to go but finally, I am on the road that is headed in the right direction. You can get there too. Start today and imagine where you could be in a year. Start today and eat the damn food.