The past few weeks have been unsettling. Uncomfortable. Fidgeting in my own skin. I haven't had the patience to write, to turn my feelings and experiences into words. I can't sit still.
The below is the most honest thing I've read in awhile. It's not a brilliant or earth-shattering observation. What it is is profoundly, simply true.
The worst part of an eating disorder is, by far, the aftermath. You are just beginning to deal with the underpinnings of the disorder and the havoc it's wrecked on your life. You have to make the choice every day to find meaning in your life sans eating disorder.