This is what recovery looks like
I couldn’t concentrate on my work for most of yesterday. The words blurred into lines of nonsensical gibberish, my attention span was that of a Chihuahua on speed. I tried to sort through my ever-deluged inbox, but that and the blip on my phone alerting me to five more voicemails only left me feeling overwhelmed and even more unmotivated. I then tried to write a few stories I’ve had back-burnered, but my creativity seemed as inert as screaming angrily under water.
I have ADD, which is to say, the above is not unusual for me. But since I started on medication for it last fall, my focus and attention problems have gotten much better. And I’ve always been able to hyperfocus on things that I enjoy, like my job and looking up every cake design Duff Goldman has ever made, much more than things that I do not enjoy, like paying taxes or writing 25-page papers on Whiggish interpretations of the Revolutionary War.
Later, it occurred to me: I had eaten nothing all day. I normally do not eat breakfast, but it was mid- to late afternoon and I hadn’t had lunch, either.
Basic law of physiology: A starving brain will not function properly. Intellectually, I know this; in fact, I parrot it often on this site. But while they’re two halves of one whole, reason and emotion can be two very different beasts. I consider myself stable in recovery, and yet I still couldn’t quell that disordered part of me that immediately whispered “You’ve gone this long without eating… why ruin it? Don’t give in; you can wait until dinner. Think of the weight you might lose!”
Ahh, the ever-familiar Bitch in My Head. She and I once had a close, intimate relationship, but although she lives rent-free in my head, I can’t quite evict her.
I can, however, ignore her.
This is what recovery looks like: You will never be free from the disorder and you might even relapse from time-to-time. It and you will reside uncomfortably in mutual antagonism, perhaps, for life. Eating disorders are ever so seductive and there will always be triggers luring you back into into eating disorder hell. The distinguishing mark of recovery, however, is that you have now have choices. I could choose the possibility of losing a fraction of a pound and be irritable, unfocused and unorganized for the rest of the day; or I could choose to nourish both my body and mind with a healthy lunch and then get back to my life and my work.
I ignored the high-pitched mosquito whine in my head and fixed myself some tomato soup and a cheese and lettuce sandwich. Pepperjack on rye never tasted better.
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