What a difference a year makes

A year ago, we were dealing with my then 16 years old struggle with anorexia and bulimia. I felt hopeless and unable to move. Fearing she would run away and be totally helpless on the streets. We did not have the learned tools to engage with her eating disorder personality. It kept us hostage. It kept us isolated. It wasn’t until she hit rock bottom in October and being admitted to Children’s Hospital that we all learned to climb out of the hell hole. For her it was determining what steps she needed to move aside the destructive patterns that the eating disorder put a place on her.
She has also chosen long distance running as her salvation. Her active meditation. To quiet the white noise in her head. In order to run, she has to fuel her body and brain. You can’t run if you don’t eat.
For me, I had to do a 180 degrees about face in reality. I had to take myself out of a destructive pattern of working and slow down to breathe and reflect. I started building a garden in the back yard, I started bike riding again. I injure my hip by not paying attention to my body. I am going slower. Acupuncture and massage helps. Listening to my body helps.
Meditating helps. Being thankful for the universe and giving back by tending to my garden helps.
I am calmer. I react to my daughter differently. I don’t get sucked into her teenage drama. I let her know that I will offer guidance but her finding her missing dress is HER responsibility. She is no longer 7….
I am letting go. Slowly.
So why am I writing about this and exposing me and my experience out here?
Because isolation is the thing that will prevent recovery.
Being afraid to tell your story with honesty and humility will keep you locked in hell. Last year was hell.
I’m not talking about blaming anyone, pointing fingers and causing shame. I’m talking about reaching out and telling my story.
I’m talking about writing down the sadness and hurt and anger and letting go. Letting emptiness wash over me in the process. By telling others from a mother’s perspective, I hope to reach out and create a community. Create a space for me and others and embrace. Love is all you need and the ability to share.
This is my sharing. We are not over yet. Recovery is slow. Two steps forward, one step back. At least we keep going.
Nameste.

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