Solid rock or stuck in sinking sand?

Oh, yes, getting stuck in the sands of a 'safe' a common place in recovery, isn't it? But me? Stuck? No, surely not. I'm living on a solid rock aren't I? I am not like other people stuck in a half-way-house form of an eating disorder built on a not-so-solid foundation? I don't define myself as so, at least, so that makes me different. Well, en contraire. 

Before, I get started on the sand it appears I'm stuck living on now, let me take you back a couple of years, when I wrote this in a post about trying to fit life into the 'neat little boxes' of anorexia. 

"I can't fit, and will never be able to fit this stuff, new foods, new people, new experiences in to THIS life. They will never fit in to anorexia’s routine, rules or plan for me." - Me, January 2013

Right, so where have I built my house (or life) and why is it bothering me? Firstly, I'm stuck where I was when I was discharged this time last year I guess. When Dr B. signed me off, I KNEW I had work to do. I'm able to get by in life, I can work, workout, run and play. To an extent. I have lost weight since I left there too, something I'm probably too blase about to be honest. I knew I had physical 'work' to do to finish of weight restoration, it's obvious I haven't done that. But I am not sure why. I also had mental work to do, continuing the work we did in therapy/mindfulness about not believing the negative self-talk and reminding myself that, well, stuck is not safe. I promised myself I'd make plans to move house. 

But that's not going well. Yes, I'm safe-ish, but I'm also stuck on where I started putting the bricks.  I also knocked some of the walls I built with help down and now need to redo that work too. How do I know that? Well, for a couple of reasons, they might sound familiar 

1) The 'don't like/won't eat/want to eat' list 

Who knows what I do, don't or won't eat any more. What I liked pre-anorexia - I probably only eat 10 per cent of now. What I ate during treatment when working with Ms F - I probably only eat half of now. In conversations with C (the other half) over the last seven months, I've tried to justify and tell him there are foods I 'don't' like - when really, deep down, it's not that I don't like them - it's that I don't eat them. Because it freak anorexia the fuck out and I know it. So it's AVOIDANCE and I know it is. This is such an obvious sign on being stuck at a certain point in recovery. My biggest problem here is, that I've been stuck with these food rules for so long, I don't know HOW to move - or believe fully that I can. It IS restrictive and what's worse is, I know it. 

2) The same old routine.

That brings me to routine. Get up, eat the same breakfast, go to work, go home to the house built on sand, eat, bed. That's generally what I do, unless it's one of the days when I run or got to circuit training. Occasionally I do something different, when the boy comes over, or a friend wants to. But I have the daily pull back to my routine. Anything outside of that causes an internal niggling anxiety. I worry about when I will eat, what I will eat, whether I may or may not like doing what is planned. I CRAVE my normal when I'm not in it. 

3) Counting numbers. Worrying about numbers. 

With this I mean two sets of numbers, on a monthly basis, my weight. I still BLAME myself if my weight has gone up - like today - and just accept if it has gone down. But this also ties into the fact that I KNOW I haven't eaten more than standard RDA of calories EVERYDAY or always actively replaced the calories I have burned on runs etc.. So something must be 'wrong' with me to gain weight? So, there are the other numbers. Calories. I know roughly how many I eat a day, and when I know I have gone OVER that, I still feel greedy, glutinous and 'wrong'. 

4) Sitting still guilt

It's not that I run or workout to 'earn' food, but I'd be lying to myself or you if I said that it doesn't make life a little easier when I have. Like I can justify food or doing something for myself. I feel like self-hate or less self concious once I have exercised. It IS a self-esteem boost, so that's where this one gets complicated, because science will tell us that working out raises endorphins in anyone. 

5) Checking myself out

Body checking. Body image. Mirror work. Something we actually never got round to during treatment. Yes, really, they skipped this bit, but I wish thy hadn't. Partly because Mrs W. left before we got on to it, then Dr B's work with me took a different direction which uncovered more issues. But anyway, what this means is I still really don't like my body. I don't like bones, I don't like my 'fat bits' I don't like my bloated stomach and I micro analyse body parts too much. I get frustrated when people say my arms are still too thin, I don't like catching my reflection in the mirror at circuits and I am still very. very self concious when in the buff with C. I sway between NOT wanting to change my current body at all, wishing my imperfections weren't there and also looking fitter, more womanly and getting my boobs back. Like with food, I've forgotten what I ACTUALLY want. 

I haven't built my recovery on a completely unsustainable surface, I was lucky to get the help I did, but that doesn't mean I couldn't be on terra-firma though. I KNOW there is a firmer ground, a more solid place to lay down my roots, a place where other people will want to come to see me in, rather than on the sand. But for some reason I am struggling to move houses, and I am not sure why. Maybe because anorexia has convinced me it's a nicer house on the sand, with sea views? But that ocean is the one I swam not to die from this illness. So, would I ever jump back in fully? Not a chance, so why do I still need to look at it everyday?