I am pleased to report that I enjoyed this year's vacation, very much. My alarm woke me at 8:30 am, I played the same card games and helped prepare for our annual crab night, but I was different-- I was more me. Sure there were doubts, insecurities, stress and anxiety, but I was stronger. I was able to genuinely enjoy time with my younger cousins and siblings, focus on my next Monopoly move and laugh-- Yes, I was able to live mindfully and earnestly in the present moment. And now, for the first time, I am able to internalize and accept the progress I've made in recovery over the past year.
As I look ahead, I am uncertain as to what the future holds. Though today I feel strong and determined, I know that at any moment stress and anxiety can overcome me, allowing ED to make a grand appearance. Eating is (pardon my language) fucking hard and accepting myself is even harder. But, as reflected from this past trip to the Outer Banks, I possess the tools and strength to keep fighting and to move ahead step-by-step down the road that leads to my Emerald City. I am certain there is life beyond ED and hopeful that there's a life worth living, but what remains unclear is if and how I'll allow myself to find it. Recovery is a journey, it's a sacred and patient process that I must endure and have faith in-- that I must trust. And unlike my vacation to the Outer Banks, recovery is unpredictable. There are many paths I can take and even more choices I have to make, which remind me how indefinite life really is. Thus, for now, I will adore the memories--and the truths captured in pictures, all which show some aspect of a life led more altruistically and less with ED.
"Plans are deliberately indefinite, more to travel than to arrive anywhere"-- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance