Christmas? Hell? Aren't they synonymous?

Christmas.

It should be a time of joy and celebration. So what am I doing right now? I'm laying in my bed in the dark, chilling on tumblr, trying not to cry, and hiding from the world.

Christmas to me doesn't remind me how blessed I am, it just reminds me of the loneliness I feel. It reminds me that my extended family doesn't want me around. It reminds me that I will never measure up.

I don't remember the last time that I felt real, true happiness. Everything has been so forced lately. I feel like I'm walking around with this plastic smile plastered onto my face and I don't really want to keep living like this. I'd rather just...not be alive.

I've been seeing my doctor regularly for medical monitoring - and he's beginning to think that I'm bipolar. I've been getting so manic lately. Staying up for days and days on end, not getting tired, feeling incredibly impulsive and suicidal, planning things, etc. My highs are really, really high and my lows are really, really, really low.

I'm so tired of this. I just want to be free. One way or another...I don't want to have to live like this anymore.

I hate that Christmas has become a day for me to hide in my room. I hate that I dread going to see family as much as I do.

I had Christmas Dinner #1 last night. I have brunch and Christmas Dinner #2 and #3 to go still. I did well yesterday. My family has no idea that I've relapsed. I'm trying to keep this up, but I just don't know how much longer I can do it. I'm terrified of the food. I'm terrified of gaining weight. I'm just terrified of everything.

Fuck.

Let the Facade Fall.

I've been debating creating this blog for a few weeks now. My therapist (her name is Abby, for future reference. I'll probably just call her Abby from now on...)and I have been in a huge debate about whether I should create a recovery blog or not. Clearly, now that I have some free time, I have decided that I will start this and see how it goes.

Recovery. Relapse. Freedom. Failure. Hope. Hell.

This blog will cover them all. I do not intend on sugar coating anything. I reserve the right to swear (probably going to do a lot of this. talking about eating disorders tends to bring out the uhh...profane? side of me.), scream, rant, preach, and basically say whatever the hell that I want to say.

I'm sick of having to pretend that everything is okay. That I'm not struggling. I'm sick of having people tell me that I'm not praying enough or that my relationship with God isn't strong enough and that is why I'm still dealing with this eating disorder. I'm sick of people telling me that I should be 100% recovered because I went to treatment for eight months.

I'm sorry, but I didn't develop this eating disorder overnight. I've been dealing with it for more than half my life now, and eight months in residential treatment - with no follow-up care was not enough to completely break the eating disorder patterns in my life. It helped with the self injury and the suicidal depression, but the eating disorder is like that thorn in my side that I'm still working on.

I do believe in full recovery, and I do believe that I can and will get better. But I also believe that it's going to take a hell of a lot of work and that it's going to be really fucking hard. There are so many ups and downs and slips and falls and joys and victories and reasons to celebrate. Recovery is not an event - it's a process.

I'm not giving up, but I'm letting go of the crazy expectations that I should be recovered by now. This is my story. I will continue to progress at my pace. This blog is my way to express my thoughts about recovery, eating disorders, and everything in between.

I seek to offer hope, support, and education to those who are impacted by eating disorders and other mental health issues. But mainly, my goal is to strip down to the bare bones truth of what's going on inside of me.

Let the facade fall.