It seems that for every step of progress that is made, two steps are taken backwards. I find myself in the same spot numerous times throughout my life; looking at my reflection and wondering if it is merely coincidental that the road always leads me back along this path? Praying that by some small chance, I am perhaps caught up in a nightmare where it may take awhile, but I shall wake up from it in time.
Recovery is such a hard thing to pursue, for me at least that has been the case for as long as I can remember. I allow myself to get to a certain point of health, and then I get scared and start to revert back to my old ways of thinking and doing. Realizing at the time that I am choosing a path that is safe and comfortable to me, instead of actually striving towards life.
Why you might ask do I do this knowing from past experiences what the outcome will be? In two words, 'I'm scared'. I'm scared to know what life is like outside of this illness, I am terrified to actually sit down to a meal, know the exact calorie count in each bite I take, and not even care. I am scared that all of this time that I have invested in this illness that has become my identity will turn me into someone others won't accept.
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