Life gets better.
Ten years ago I never thought I'd survive the year, let alone ten. I was deep in my eating disorder. It was the summer before senior year. I was depressed and anxious and hoping my ED would kill me.
Today, I consider myself recovered. I am a semester away from finishing graduate school. I have been a teacher for two years, and I love it. I'm married and in love. I'm planning to start a family. The worst thing in my life is that I'm bored with summer vacation and my classes aren't interesting enough. Things are pretty damn good.
I struggled for years. I didn't just wake up and feel better. It was an up and down journey from when I decided to really try recovery in late 2014, through years of outpatient treatment, some residential treatment, a couple of hospital stays, and many different medications. It was hard, and there were many times when I didn't think I'd get through it. In fact, I didn't think I'd get through it until the moment I realized I was actually getting better (fall 2019). For a while, I thought the only way I'd recover was if I pushed myself every single day to adhere to a meal plan—mechanically brute forcing life. But that passed. It got easier. Then it became automatic. Then the eating disorder thoughts and urges became a thing of the past.
I've had almost five years of being stable in recovery, and life gets so much better. I can enjoy the little things. I can get through hard moments, knowing they're only temporary.
Anyways, keep trying. Keep pushing. Eventually it gets easier.
