Welcome Back. We saved your seat for you.

It's been a while. Let's recap:

Figure out anorexia will kill me - CHECK

Spin wheels for years getting nowhere in the mental health dept - CHECK

Have epiphany, hit stride, begin gaining ground in life-saving progress - CHECK

Gain weight, maintain weight - CHECK

Get to hear therapist use words "really impressive progress" - CHECK

Relapse and throw it all into the Goddamn wind - CHECK

Anyone else have one of those days? Yeah, they're fun, aren't they?

I met, head on, several of my biggest fears and eating disordered triggers over the past few months. I spent 16 days back home in ND where my family accepted me eating disordered or not. By the time I got back there I already had several accolades in the recovery department to my name. While back there, I buckled down even more so and didn't back away from one terrifying challenge that previously would have been a no-brainer situation before. Before I achieved the level of health I busted my ass to get to, any one of the seemingly simple situations would have sent me reeling and I would have lost 5 pounds easily. But, for the first time in my life, the sick voice in my head was getting quieter and the healthy, confident voice was loud and clear. I did awesome. I was proud of myself. I had nothing to hide and it felt liberating.

Well, I got cocky. I decided one Sunday that going for a run would be nice even though my therapist and I had discussed my struggle with over-exercising and decided I was not to go running until I had a few more months of health under my belt. I threw caution to the wind along with his friends progress and thinking-it-through. I started having chest pains during the run. I pushed and pushed and pushed to get past them. My ankle felt like it was breaking. I pushed to get past that too. Jeff paced me as much as he possibly could. I think it's entirely likely that he is the only reason no one had to call 911. The next day, I threw the girls in the double stroller and headed out again, with no one to pace me. And in those two decisions, I let the evil, sick voice out of it's sound proof, hidden cell and gave it a nice loud voice. So, now I have to dig deeper than ever and pull out what feels to be a minor miracle.

I had an appointment with my therapist today. She has termed what happened as a relapse. Do you know how much that sucks? She told me that the battle I'm in now will likely be harder than any other. It feels insurmountable. It feels like every second of every day is consumed in trying to do the right thing; to continue eating and do my damnedest not to hate myself for it. While getting Ava ready for kindergarten, Phia ready for preschool, and the 9 million other things I tackle everyday. I'm not saying my life is harder than any other person's, but at the end of my day I pray for a coma. I'm exhausted. I'm disheartened. I feel crushed under the weight of this horrific disease. I don't want to live this way forever. Jan asked me if I knew that if I keep pushing through this really shitty setback, that in time I'll be back on top. It was not that long ago that I knew what that awesome, successful feeling felt like; but now? I can't imagine the voice in my head going away, I can't imagine not feeling like every step every day is being done waist deep in mud with 1000 pound weights on my shoulders.

But, I'll keep pushing because I can see the change my progress has had on my girls. I will keep pushing because I will do whatever it takes for them to not have this disease affecting their everything. I will keep pushing because it is what I've taught myself to do. And I want to be proud of me again.

"Its ok to look back, but don't stare." Quote I saw on ANAD - Natl Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders.

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