I feel like I need to write a blog post at least once a week or else I may never return to this old dusty corner of the Internet. I also feel like I need to stop feeling things. Okay, that's a lie. If anything, I need to feel more, or at least welcome and be grateful for feelings, something I lost during my stint as an anorexic addicted to stimulants. Oh wait! I will always be an anorexic with an addiction, it's just that I'll be a recovering anorexic addict. We've all got our thing(s), right?
I think a big reason why I've shied away from writing is that I began writing solely about my eating disorder. Now this is perfectly fine and in many ways it's probably very therapeutic. Buuut... Maybe I could either make those ED writings into a separate blog or in a private journal? I also felt consumed by ED thoughts, both negative and positive. In short, my eating disorder and my recovery became my identity. And I simply don't want it to be my identity. I hope to help others with my openness and willingness to share gritty details and everyday anxieties, but there comes a point when I want to step away from that -- all of that -- and just be me.
But who is "me"? Who is this separate being who should have never been separate in the first place? To where am I supposed to return home? I know I have roots, I just can't find them. Yet. I'm searching. I have been searching. I will most likely continue to search until I find these roots, my home, myself. I get exhausted, but I haven't given up yet. I become discouraged, but I'm also fiercely determined.
Hey! Three paragraphs isn't bad. I actually wrote a blog post! I did it without stimulants! I can do more than I realize. Time to start realizing.