Two days ago a friend of mine said I seem like I am doing really well. This morning I read an email from a friend who said they suspect I am going through a rough patch. It's interesting how people perceive me (especially during my recovery process) and how easily it can change my own perspective on myself. I probably shouldn't let other's opinions affect me so much, but it does. Now I am paranoid that I am going through a rough patch even though I haven't felt this good in over three months. Hey! If I feel good then I feel good! But is my friend a prophet? Are they predicting a rough patch I am about to go through? Through which I am about to go. No, that's not right. I feel dumb these days. But a happy dumb. Dumb and happy and so tired.
Okay, maybe I am going through a slight rough patch. A nice package of confidence and motivation arrived at my doorstep the day I decided I wanted to recover. People reaching out to me and offering support, encouragement, and congratulations also helped to boost my mood. But that drive can only last so long on its own before it begins to run out of fuel. I know I need to seek therapy -- if only it wasn't so frustrating and tedious to find a decent therapist who also happens to take my insurance and/or provide income-based therapy. I known I need to, well, eat in order to properly function. I can't just keep obsessing over cookbooks and food blogs and expect those things alone to make me comfortable with eating. You can't eat a cookbook, dear. I feel sometimes like I am playing the part of a girl in recovery, but in reality I am still a hungry ghost.
I have to cut back on the amount of exercising I do. I hate even discussing exercise because it is such a trigger. It might be my number one trigger, in fact. And it's such a tricky subject because exercising is good for us, right? People praise those who regularly work out. "Oh my my my! You have such willpower. You are such a good runner! You must be as healthy as a horse! I am so proud of you." Proud. I think I just want people to be proud of me. I want to feel accomplished and be recognized for those accomplishments, even though I am also way too modest and downplay anything I happen to accomplish. "It's no big deal." "Nah, it's nothing." "Oh, I didn't even realize I did that. Huh. Well, whatever." I have always shrugged off my successes. Hell, I graduated from a university with honors and I didn't even make a peep about it. I should have at least demanded a congratulatory dinner.
But I disappear. I like to hide behind different flavors of the week. Which flavor am I this week? Oh, I am a conservationist? Cool, better break out my Chacos and talk about yurts nonstop. Next week I'll be a tortured performance artist who wears all black and considers running away to a Swedish commune. Remember a few weeks ago, Meg, how you were determined to learn Japanese and explore the world of being a geisha? It's neat that you have interests. It's neat that you get excited. It's neat that you embrace and then abandon people/places/things with lightning speed. It's super neat.
I want more consistency. I do. I don't know how to go about having that. I am all over the place with my thoughts right now. I didn't even finish what I was going to say about exercising. I am not entirely sure I know where I was going with it anyway. I am so tired and famished and ready to nap forever and ever and ever and it's only 7:00pm. On the dot. I shouldn't be this tired (or maybe I should be because of that whole "HEY I TOTALLY HAVE BAD ANEMIA" thing). I should be more vibrant and excited and, I don't know, social. I am 30, but I feel like I am 80 with brittle bones and bad posture. Where are my sexy thirties I was promised? When will I lead a Sex and the City lifestyle? Does this mean I need to start wearing $400 heels? I need to start answering some of my questions. I need to start living at least some of my life. Not everything should be put on hold. Not everything should be a struggle.
Okay, time to look at the sky. Thanks for reading these tired thoughts. Thanks for emailing me a burrito. Take care of yourselves. I will try to do the same.