I had Ryan read some of the comments left on my posts from last week, because I was pretty hurt by the things said in regards to my family; more specifically about him.
I don’t think anyone intentionally meant to imply Ryan was a bad person, enabling me to continue destructive behaviors, “quasi-recovery,” or no recovery at all, but for some reason I feel the need to come to his defense.
Without Ryan I would probably be dead.
I am not trying to paint him as the hero either, because trust me, there are days when I wish he would just leave me the hell alone. Those are typically times when he is taking away the things that bring me the most comfort, like exercise time, or my safety snack and replacing it with something more difficult, but he is only one man and I have essentially asked him to be my treatment team.
Sure I have a nutritionist, a few doctors who I see and a new therapist (who many of you also had a problem with) but Ryan plays more roles than a husband really should and it is all because I put the pressure on him to do so.
The easy thing for him to do would be to leave, which is exactly what I expect.
My biological dad did. The variety of men I got close to when my mom dated them, they moved in, coached my teams and then one day their stuff was out of the closet, all did, too.
People just leave. I saw it first hand.
For a while I never even considered getting married because I doubted any relationship could last, and then when I did, not that I ever want to get divorced, but I guess I just assumed with how difficult I was being when I got sick, Ryan and I would just part our ways but Ed would still be here “faithfully” by my side.
Maybe that is why I find “him,” meaning Ed, so “necessary” to my life…because he has always been with me, regardless of if I wanted him to be or not.
Anyway, I have actually been very blessed with my partner because even though we quarrel, he gets frustrated beyond belief, and we have had a few years of ups and downs, he has consistently been supportive, loving, and a positive element in my life.
After he got through reading the words written by the readers of last week, he closed to lid of the computer and asked which aspects bothered me?
Before I could formulate an answer, he continued, “Because I agree with everything that was said. You do need to work harder, I think you should go to a program, I have been saying that for months.”
He is right. He has been almost begging me to go away and get this over with once and for all. Heck, he threatened to pack my bags for me on numerous occasions, but I reply with my normal defense…
“It hasn’t worked in the past and it won’t work now. If I truly WANT to recover, it will not matter where I am, I will make it happen.”
And I do believe in my heart this is true, because in every facility I have ever been I have broken the rules and engaged in Ed behaviors out the wazoo.
Exercised in the bathrooms…hid food at any and every opportunity…determined which staff was easily manipulated to get what I want as far as exchanges and alone time…
I did all of that because I was not willing, or ready to surrender.
Am I now?
I think you can all probably answer that question. I am not ready to give up the comforts of an Ed life because I am scared as hell and convince myself that I do not know how to live any other way, but I HAVE to just suck it up.
Now is the time you are saying to yourselves, “how is this any different; heard this all before…”
And you have, but the other portion of last week that really hurt my feelings was when people told me to stop writing.
I am not a great writer, nor do I think everyone should read what I have to say.
I certainly do not want anyone to take my posts and think they should be some sort of model for their own recovery. My gosh that is the farthest thing from the truth!
But I started writing a little less than a year ago because it was a good outlet FOR ME.
It helps relieve my stress, takes time that I would normally be physically active or want to be physically active and gives me something I feel is productive to do without requiring movement, has allowed me to make connections with others, sort through my thoughts, get support, and a whole slew of other things I appreciate more than I can even express.
Blogging has helped me way more in my recovery than it has been a detriment, but if you feel what I write is hurting YOU by reading, then as sad as I am to say this, come back when you are ready and it will no longer be a trigger.
I write for me and I really hope some day I can be an inspiration to others, but right now isn’t that time.
Just know, if you are also on a journey to find balance, you are not alone, and it is the HARDEST thing in the entire world.
It is repetitive. It is a mental illness that requires strength, courage and perseverance. And if it takes a person six months or sixty years to overcome to horrific restraints it puts on a life, neither one is wrong as long as you end up happy and free.
I realize this is quite a jumbled and scattered post, but I had a lot of emotions after the variety of feedback received in the past few days; some of sadness, but all comments made were much appreciated.
As I have said before, thank you for always being honest. Just another one of the fabulous things blogging has provided for me is friends, and that is hands down, my favorite aspect of all.