Taking Back My Life

I have tried and failed to conquer my illness so many fucking times. Each one plummeting me further into a dark, vacant whole where I am left to sabotage any sense of self-worth I have left. This is one of the biggest things BED has taken from me–my identity.

Come to think of it, BED had taken a lot from me. It has taken friends who I didn’t have the courage to explain my behavior to, experiences I passed up on because I couldn’t bring myself to leave my house, photographs I refused to be in because I no longer recognized my appearance, foods I used to enjoy but became associated with the hideous act of “binging,” romantic relationships I pushed away because I was convinced the real me would repulse the opposite sex…

my life.

But now I am taking back those things. Because I can. Because BED doesn’t define who I am–it’s something I am going through. Recovery is a wrong turn where you are forced to ask for directions or else you end up more lost than you were five minutes ago. You can’t take your life back alone.

To my support system,

Stronger every day, together. Thank you.

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