I spent Wednesday in New York City, with the boy of course.
I have never been there before.
It was amazing and I think I just fell in love with the place. We went to the Museum of Modern Art. LOVED it. I don't think we walked around the whole place, but what I saw was incredible. And oh-em-gee. I did really well with eating. I was a bit disappointed though. I entirely forgot that in NY, resturaunts are mandated to post the caloric content of everything. I was all looking forward to not even thinking about calories, and there they were, posted everywhere. :\
It was OK though - it did prevent me from over-estimating what I was eating. I was really proud of myself actually - I ate what I wanted anyways. Even had a strawberry-short cake ice cream bar in Central Park.
The most amazing thing though: I recognized hunger cues. For the first time in I don't know how long. I felt hungry, knew I needed to eat more and I did! Honestly - I had to come home and make a ginormous snack since me and D split a sandwich for dinner (for the record - I could have eaten the whole damn thing plus a dessert, I was starving! But food was expensive and D refused to let me pay, so i suggested we split something since I felt a little guilty)But just the fact that I ate three meals and came home and ate again because I knew I needed to is huuuge. I'm really, really proud of myself for that.
I have been feeling a bit scared lately. I find myself not wanting to care about the calories any more, not really thinking about grams of fat and all that other formerly-obsessive stuff. It just doesn't plague my mind anymore. And while I know that is absolutely wonderful, its a bit frightening to think that the life I used to know is slowly becoming something new. Its weird to think that hey - you ate that sandwich yesterday and that ice cream and didn't even wonder about how many grams of fat or protein were in them. I don't even know how many calories or grams of this or that were in my breakfast this morning, and I don't know what I'm going to have for lunch exactly - I'll be raiding the fridge to see what needs using up.
This is liberation. I have no idea where it came from, and I won't ask. It feels amazing, new and intimidating - but amazing nonetheless. I've heard that this sort of thing happens upon reaching your body's "happy place" - the obsessive and consuming thoughts just start to fall away. I hope that's true. I admit a small part of me fears that this lack of thinking or obsessing about food is the first step towards relapse. But I do keep a general idea of how much I've eaten versus what I know I usually have in a day from when I was planning and I can tell when I haven't eaten enough. I don't think that sounds or feels like anorexia stepping back into my mind. I hope its not. I hope its just me making one more step forward in recovery, and getting one hurdle closer to being free again.
I hope everyone's having a great Friday! Remember, all things are possible as long as you don't let go. I never on my life thought I would have been able to get this far on my own - if at all. I honestly did not expect to see my 20th birthday last fall. And here I am, approaching the 21st. But I have done this, and I've done it for real this time. I've maintained a pretty healthy weight since late April (longest span of time ever for me). I've noticed a lot of girls in blog-land seeming like they are slipping back, or struggling over all. I understand this to a certain extent, but honestly even on my worst days, I still force myself to eat what I need. Even when the ED used to scream in my head that I was getting too big or that I was too close to X pounds - I kept going. That doesn't happen much anymore, but on the rare occasion that it does, I do not let it stop me. You can be damn sure I still eat three meals and 2-3 snacks every day. Because I know in my heart that one day of restriction will lead to another. And I also know now that the events and circumstances of my life should not dictate how I treat and nourish my body. Ultimately - it is YOUR choice whether you eat or not. No one makes you restrict, you choose to let the stress or sadness you feel be manipuluated by anorexia. And yeah, I'm sure you probably think that's easy for me to say given where I am now. But I've struggled a lot, with more than what I have revealed on this blog. I'm not looking for pity on those things - they are part of life. People die. We get disappointed with the way our lives our going. It is part of recovery - learning to deal with life and not take it out on yourself anymore.
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