Part 2, Fat Fall-Out

I did binge last night. Around 2. I ate three protein bars. I didn't purge. I ate some other stuff, too. I just don't remember what. I went to bed and curled up in a ball of pain. Content to suffer. Happy ED.

This morning, I was overwhelmed by sadness. Sad about how I treated myself. Sad about the trigger. And ashamed...for saying I wouldn't binge, but did. I couldn't eat this morning. I did take some toddler cereal puffs to my therapy session. Just in case.

I spent the time talking about what happened, the ED reaction, the anger and shame and disappointment in the whole thing. But as I talked about, the pain changed. From searing hotness to bruised ache. Deep, green-gray and spreading.

I felt like I couldn't take on both the eating disorder restriction and the self-loathing at the same time. So I chose to be gentle to myself...to comfort myself as best I could...to distance myself from the trigger.

I let my ED go today. I've restricted. But I am not hating myself. I am not judging myself. I am not calling myself horrible names, spewing venom. And I'm certain it was the right choice. I gave up calories to salvage my self.

By the time I had to get ready for my going-away party tonight, I was able to dress without changing my clothes other than from my grubby stuff to the outfit I had preselected. I didn't spend long minutes examining the shape of my skin beneath the clothes. I felt good when I was done and I knew that I looked okay.

The party was fun...people actually showed up...everyone was gracious...my anxiety passed. Most important, this gathering was the perfect act of closure for me. I realized that I had make the very best choice for myself in taking the option I did. There's no way I could have gone back. Not yet. Maybe never. I felt confident that all would be well. I will be fine.

So how about that? I'm pleased with my ability to navigate the emotional waters and reach some sense of solid land by the evening. I've enjoyed the rest of the night quietly sketching some images from my morning's guided meditation. Thinking. Sketching other stuff. Writing this post. I'm okay. Maybe even a little bit happy.