i(NO)Robot

Don’t we hear it all the time?

Our bodies are machines.

Food is fuel.

Train like a machine.

I get it, but, we are not machines. We’re humans. We have feelings, we feel good one day and not so hot the next. We can’t function the same way, with the same output, every single time. But we are not machines, we’re not robots… we feel, change, vary.

We’re real. be you

My disorder drives me to function more as a machine than a person. When I start to deviate from the strict path, I feel the disorder yelling to me to get back in line. 

Right now I’m not in machine like shape. I don’t look “hard” like I used to… which in reality was not hard and healthy it was disordered. But truth be told… I miss it. That’s one of the hardest parts of disorder recovery. We got satisfaction, approval, feelings of success out of it. Perhaps out of functioning like a machine.

All machines break though. Eventually you have to replace parts, they lose functionality, and sooner or later, all machines need to be thrown out.

How many machines at home do you really like? Are you friends with your toaster? Is the fan a great conversationalist? I doubt it. So then, why do we feel this need to be a machine? Why is it that we feel if we’re not machine like we’re a failure?

My disorder is calling for me to fall into line … yelling loud and clear. But I refused to be a machine. I want to feel – the good and the bad, the comfortable and the uncomfortable. Feeling is life. Being a machine is not.

Remember… you are so much more than a machine, don’t hold yourself down trying to be one.

TRUEStrength

Advertisements

Where the F is the rainbow?

I’ve been in outpatient treatment for my disorder for over a year now.

Am I better?

Sure – on the outside I’m sure I appear to be cured. I’ve gained weight, I no longer look skeleton like… if anything I probably look like I could stand to loose a few pounds.

So all cured right? WRONG.

On the outside you’d never tell, but on the inside it almost feels worse. I still have the negative talk, the controlling drill sergeant and I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t like how things fit and I don’t trust my body to do what it needs to do… or whatever it’s trying to do.

I fight the urge to quit treatment everyday. I fight the urge to quit the trudge towards healthier life long choices and fight the urge to revert to the disordered behaviors just to feel a little more comfortable.

So where the F is the rainbow at the end of all of this? Not sure… just trying to trust that it really, truly is there…

I guess this applies to so many other times in our life. We can’t always see the rainbow through the storm, the finish line or the celebration. We have to trust and let it happen.

Stay strong!

TRUE Strength

IMG_7323