As the weekend comes to a close, and I suddenly have two healthy eating days behind me, I can’t help but just fucking bask in the gratitude.
I don’t have to worry about this week or even tomorrow. I have no idea what will come of those, nor do I have any control of it.
Today I navigated a lot of shit. Today I traversed old wounds I thought mostly healed. Each time I entertained a thought that didn’t serve me, I put it back down. And then I picked up another, noted the insanity, and I put it back down. And picked up another. But at least always put them back down.
My eating disorder kicks my ass. Those roots are thick and sturdy. Today’s chaos also has deep roots, but manageability exists. It didn’t used to. Which reminds me how far I’ve come and that good things lay ahead.
Yesterday I felt like my eating disorder would keep me tangled in its web forever. It was pretty fucking bleak. For the first time in months, some cotton is starting to give way to light.
I know where my feet are and I’m here for the ride.