courage | at peace, not in pieces

fear is such a tricky, pesky thing. it binds us in place, it blinds us of the future. and with an eating disorder, it becomes one of the most central governing features of life. although i am “in recovery,” fear is still so present, and so hard to challenge. we all hate fear, but i think we all have a hard time doing anything about those fears so that they dissipate. why don’t we try to change the things we’re afraid of? because the remedy also involves tackling fear of the unknown, one of the most powerful of all.

lately, i’ve been in a lot of situations that scared me. ones that made my eating disorder scream at me, ones that put my insecurity through the roof and had me wishing i could stay at home and hide. but i’ve been doing by best to try things i used to avoid, to take on situations that would be easier to avoid. the results have been quite mixed, but it is rather satisfying to look back at the past few days and see that i’ve done things that scared me and that i have survived, and even enjoyed pieces of it all.

thursday i went out for dinner with my mom and some family friends to celebrate my birthday and my mom’s friend’s daughter’s birthday (we were born 12 hours apart). usually when i go out to eat, it’s only a meal and a diet coke involved. but thursday, we got a pitcher of margaritas, an appetizer, our meals, a second drink (they all got beers, i got a mudslide), and just when i thought i couldn’t take any more, everyone ordered a dessert, then looked at me. and who am i to be the one not to get a dessert, when everyone knows my history of an eating disorder? that part of me was probably being irrational, but i forced myself to do what everyone else was doing (for better or for worse), and got a dessert. i had ordered a meal that was pretty scary to me and had already had about 3 fear foods, so the dessert was really a big push..and a big screw you to my eating disorder. i went home quite uncomfortable, but my mom was really proud of me, for multiple reasons. the first being that i did well will all the food. the second was that the last time we got together with these 2 women, they all had dinner and i had a diet coke. it shows how much progress i’ve made i suppose, and that i can tolerate more than i like to admit. and hey, the food was pretty delicious!

the dessert i ordered thursday, picture taken when i split it with a friend back in april. it’s called a toll house cookie pie… basically minimally baked cookie dough covered in chocolate!

friday was one of my old roomie’s 21st birthday, so i braved my immiment return to BC and seeing both people who i had been friends with who’ve been abroad and the other girls i lived with. as i’m sure i’ve mentioned, i didn’t exactly leave school on a good note. it’s hard to have positive relationships when you’re that sick. anyway, my body image was awful, and i was so sure that the girls wouldn’t want me there. to my shock and relief, everyone seemed so happy to see me, pleasantly surprised that i had returned, and was more lively and healthy and generally “looking good/better.” it’s hard to take in those words, that i look good, when i feel so awful, and when the connotation is that i look different…aka “fatter.” but i know that’s my eating disorder talking, and i just let myself have fun. the real test was seeing 2 of my other roomies… and that was maybe the best part of all! they were so happy to see me and really nice, and we had a great time. plus, i when to my first bar in boston! another milestone, i suppose.

(the last one on the right is me)

tonight my mom’s having another of her friends and her friend’s daughter over for dinner. i have work until 8:30, but there is an expectation that i’ll be home to have dessert with them. the word dessert makes me cringe when i’m not the one baking it or knowing the calories or portions or anything. that’s my eating disorder hanging on for sure, as is the fact that i get really anxious when people i don’t know very well watch me eat. i always wonder if they’re judging me, though i suppose it’d be hard for anyone to judge me nearly as much as i judge myself.

i’ve had plenty of moments over the past few days where i have hated the size of my body, where i have missed my old friends, where i have just wanted to stay home and avoid the real world. but i am pushing through, and while it may feel so uncomfortable, i have found myself feeling a bit more confident and optimistic because of it. by doing the opposite of my fears, i find that the fear subsides a bit. i’m afraid of how much i weigh, but instead of trying to seek comfort in the scale, i avoid it all together. i’m afraid of eating too much, but i eat my meal plan anyway. i am afraid of seeing people, of showing off my body, of being judged and rejected, but i am still allowing myself to take that risk and go out and try to have fun. i am afraid of my body and how it looks, especially in pictures, but i let them be taken, and i look at them still, and i try not to take it out in my food choices. i try to remind myself that my presence matters more than the size of me, and that my presence is only marginally made up of my actual physical self, but rather mostly composed of my character and vivaciousness.

there’s a very famous quote that says courage doesn’t always roar, and i think that’s incredibly true. courage can be such little things, like wearing shorts in public, or ordering dessert, or celebrating a friend’s birthday. it’s giving things a second chance. it’s risking disappointment. it’s saying yes when you want to scream no. and courage is a constant effort, something that has to be put forth every day along this journey. but the thing is, i’m finding that it’s worth it, that the harder i fight, ultimately, the better i feel. i am tired of staying in place with my recovery, and while i struggle with the idea of challenging myself, and get so tired of it, i find that it’s really the only way to move forward. i have done things over the past few days that play-it-safe rachel would never have done. it’s hard to imagine finding things each day that scare me to do in the name of recovery, but there are certainly small steps i can take. recovery is a nonstop job, as much as i wish it were otherwise. but at the same time, every day can be pay day. so maybe, if i let myself be honest, this all really is so incredibly worth it.