When your ED tries to get you to relapse during the holidays
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Desert Island Dream
I'm Cait. I'm 21.
I am for suicide prevention, gay rights, love, being a nerd and tea.
Talk to me. I promise I am always here to listen.
My ask is open.
Trigger warning on content in this blog. Also NSFW. Like... not safe at all
I just want to quit right now…
My recovery journal page. <3
I can feel it coming…
I hate that I can feel the depression coming. I can feel it hanging over me… Making it hard to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. That’s how it starts, the trouble sleeping and waking up.
Then it’s the sadness for no reason. Well, I guess there is a reason. Crying over small things. Crying over nothing.
Crying just because I feel like I really need to cry.
And I know all of this is happening, but it feels like I can’t fight it. Or maybe I can’t? Or maybe just the fact I realize all of this means that I’m already fighting so much harder than I ever thought I could.
Dan wants me to take a walk today. He thinks it will do me some good. I agree. And yet most of me just wants to curl up into a ball and sob under the covers for the rest of the day.
I’m just so lucky to have him… because he knows so well what to say. I just wish he was here.
Sometimes we mess up. We say “This one will be our last,” but we relapse a couple weeks later. Or a couples months. In my case… maybe a year or more after that “last one.”
But that doesn’t mean I’m not recovering. It doesn’t mean that I have failed.
It means I accomplished something…
And one day, it will be the last cut.
Hey, it’s been quite a few months since the last time I have done it. So I’m going to believe in myself and say that that’s my last time. =)
And I believe in you, if you’re struggling.
We can recover. We are recovering. Parts of us already have recovered.