Just because I'm doing better than I was before doesn't mean I'm ready to be all gung-ho-recovery-girl. I don't want to be perceived as that right now if it's not how I really feel, if it doesn't reflect my level of motivation. But really, I don't know what I want or what I am doing, or where any of this is going to lead me. Does that count as working on recovery?
Why are we stuck in these battles we already have the tools to win? Why are we not content with the beauty, strength, love, and intelligence that each of us sees in the other? Sometimes I am incredulous that it has been 3 years of our lives that we have known each other and fought together and yet we still battle the same demons. . . . but maybe it is naive of me to think that demons ever change -- maybe they are constants in everyone's lives and ours happen to manifest in this way over and over. In one way, maybe we are lucky to be able to give our demons a name --ED, self-harm, bulimia, anorexia-- while others battle blindly against nameless, faceless ones. At the same time, though, I wonder if that makes us the unlucky ones; in naming our problems, do we give ourselves an excuse not to look at their core, look behind them to find out the real troubles, just because we think already know what they are? We know so many words, but we have still been fighting for years and years. Since I was 14! That's 9 years.
I don't mean to make it sound like I think our struggles are fruitless. On the contrary, I think we have . . . uh, a lot of fruit. I don't at all think we're hopeless. I just wish it didn't have to be like this.
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