“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

49 days.

49 days in an inpatient center. Fighting against my eating disorder. Fighting for ME.

 I think this is the first time in my life I've ever felt this happy and hopeful towards recovery. In those 7 weeks I met some amazing people, I've faced challenges, I've been finding myself.  Ive learned that I deserve recovery, that people like me for ME, not my eating disorder, I can make the choice to be positive and choose how I react to things,  that healthy is a good thing and that most importantly;  I have the strength to recover. It's been in me all along. I think it just took a little time for me to dig down deep and find it. Other times I thought I had to rely on other people to support me and push me through everything, for everyone to completely stop all the things they do that trigger me.....but honestly how realistic is that? Sure, support is definitely key in helping sustain my recovery, but I cant rely on everyone, and expect everyone to act the way I'd like. Because life's a trigger. Even if my Dad tapes his mouth shut so he cant yell or judge anymore, if my sibling stops talking about body image, i'm going to end up facing it in the outside world. And i have to be able to deal with it because turning to my eating disorder is not the option I want anymore. I've been practicing supporting myself and dealing with the triggers around me. Because these are the things that will make me stronger.

 If you were to talk to me 50 days ago, I would've told you that im a hopeless case. That there's no use anymore, no point in trying. But you know what this time to focus on myself has proved?! Im not hopeless, and i've been kicking EDs butt CONTINUOUSLY!

And i'm not gonna lie to you, at first this recovery process is painful, so so so uncomfortably painful. Everything. Eating, trying to fight and challenge ED's thoughts. But what I had to do was  PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE, fighting over and over again, fighting the urges. because overtime it does get easier and my recovery voice got stronger. Im laughing more than crying. Sure, ive had some bad moments, heck, i've had bad days, But you know what? The worst days in recovery are better than the best days in relapse.

 "But, as bad as it was, I learned something about myself. That I could go through something like that and survive. I mean, I know it could have been worse—a lot worse—but for me, it was all I could have handled at the time. And I learned from it."

And let me tell you this feeling is so worth it. Its worth the tears when I got an NG tube  , when I eat a fear food, when I feel so ugly and fat, when my nutritionist tells me she's adding food. Because at the end of the day I feel an overwhelming amount of strength in myself. If i can fight my inner demon, the thing that abuses me the most, that manipulates me, that tries to consume me, what CANT i do?