The ‘R’ Word (It’s not what you think)

There is a word that people with my conditions hate.
It sits in the pit of my stomach, heavy with foreboding.
It gets stuck in my throat…I just can’t get the syllables out.

Relapse.

It’s the scariest word I have in my vocabulary. This year, Fiancé and several of my friends have gone down the paths of full blown relapse – hospital stays, concerned looks, confusion and desperation. I am not there yet – but I am on my way down that slippery slope again.

It began sometime after Fiancé was discharged. I don’t really know why or how or when, but at some point everything has become screwed up again. The voices in my head are there, whispering and niggling. Not screaming like they use to, but there. I am crying more and eating less. I find that I could stay in bed all day. I am anxious and angry and agitated. It has been better,  it could get a lot worse. So here is the next scary word…

Responsibility.

I create what I think and feel, and am in control of what I do or do not do. The same is true for you. We need only note the impact of our reality on each other. – Internal Boundary Statement, SPP Client Handbook

My responsibility is first and foremost to myself. I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few months taking on other people’s problems as my own. Seemingly contradictory, I have become more insular and withdrawn into myself. I have let my therapist convince me of things that she can’t possibly know as true, because that’s what I wanted to hear. I have not asked for my needs to be met. I have not been responsible for myself, and I know if I continue not doing so that the ED voices will completely overwhelm me again and I do not want to become sick again. So my responsibility is to find a therapist who will work within reality.  My responsibility is to reach out when I need help. My responsibility is to love my friends and family (and the best way I can do that is to love myself). My responsibility is to keep continuing down the road of…

Recovery.

A relapse, however small or great, is not the ‘death’ of recovery. It is a setback, a hurdle to overcome. I love recovery. I love the joy and life and hope it brings. I love the feeling of being ‘able’. I am willing to do most anything to reclaim my life. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. And I do. And I will NOT be overcome by it.

 

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