One More Week

I have one week of treatment left. The past five weeks have been full of laughs and tears. Making friends, sharing stories, and trying to help. I wouldn't give back this stay for anything. The people I met are so incredible and their stories are astonishing. I have formed bonds with staff and let them see me in my most vulnerable moments. I haven't played the perfect patient. I have stared at meals, I have cried after, I have participated in groups. For me these are a big deal. But something is different this time. Rather than be so ready to get out and go home. I am actually terrified to go home. I don't know how I will keep this up. I can barely do it here. In a completely safe place. A place where I have come to trust those around me. My ambivalence towards recovery continues to be such an issue. And in the real world, I can act on urges. I can relapse. I basically did at one point while still here. Not to say that spending six weeks in treatment has nothing. I have learned tons of things. Somethings I never heard, and others that were simply reinforced. The problem is that I haven't gotten my mind where it needs to be to continue this way. Half of me is still planning to lose more weight when I leave. Part of me still can rationalize skipping things and feel guilty for putting a single calorie in to my body. I feel huge and disgusting. Which is common when leaving treatment after gaining weight. But I don't know if I can handle this. And I have to do a summer school course on top of it. That's a lot of stress. I don't know. I mean this summer would be a great time to focus on myself and getting to healthy place before school starts. But I have a greater priority now in place. Making sure I graduate and then college apps come out in August. Recovery may have to take a back seat right away. School is first. Sorry.

What are your priorities?

Stay Strong
xo Aria