Accountability

I've had three awesome days this week. Then today - Thursday, day 4 of treatment this week. day 4 of no purging at all. Also, the one year anniversary of meeting my boyfriend. Our dateversary. Hopes are high. We're eating dinner out tonight. I'm excited, not nervous. All is wonderful. Treatment Is Working.

Reality.

My cell phone died in the middle of the night and my 6:40 am alarm did not go off. I wake up to my boyfriend's alarm at 9:00 am, a full 30 minutes after I'm supposed to be at the treatment center. It takes over 45 minutes to drive there, and I'm still completely uncomfortable with the amount of food we're required to eat throughout the day unless I've run at least 6 miles first.

Panic.

What to do? Go in late? Make up an excuse? Do I still need to go to treatment? I can eat on my own. Maybe I'll stop going to treatment, back to school. Back to life. I'm fine. I'm healing. I'm good. Quit treatment. My phone dies and I wake up a little late, and this is where I end up. I don't need to be in treatment anymore. Red flag perhaps?

So.

I ride the wave of motivation and a very successful streak and call the treatment center. I won't make it today. I tell myself, I'll be totally fine on my own all day, alone from 9:30-6:00. I am out of bed as my boyfriend leaves for work at 9:30 am. I feel great. I can do this. It is easy for me to eat and not purge at treatment, so it will be easy today, too.

Today.

I go to the grocery store for chai tea mix. I'm addicted to it and I'm out. I withstand the first urge to buy food to eat and purge. Then, an exciting task. I go to Lowe's and make a duplicate key to my boyfriend's apartment. He has suggested this, and it makes me very happy. I drive home. Make a chai latte. I wait to have breakfast til noon. Oatmeal, splenda, peanuts, more 45 calorie per 1.5 cup serving of chai latte. I forget the chai latte makes purging easy peasy. Perhaps I do not forget this at all. Too much liquid with food so I have to purge aaaaaaaaaaaaand.... the familiar story beings. I spend most of my dateversary eating my boyfriend's food... powdered donuts, oatmeal, pancake batter, peanut butter crackers, pop tarts, chips and hummus, cereal... and throwing it up. Buying more. Throwing it up.

I take a 6 mile walk mid-day. Come home empty and famished. More. I regain control again by late afternoon, nap for an hour, go to the gym down the street. 9 more miles. 15 on the day.

I come home from the gym to an excited boyfriend, who actually gives a shit that we've been together for a whole year, and find flowers and thoughtful gifts. He asks, jokingly, if I ate a whole bag of powdered donuts because he notices the brand on the bag is different than it was when he left for work. I am caught. I confess. He's mostly unaware that my eating disorder sometimes involves eating 5,000-10,000 calories over a short period of time and throwing them all up.

What does he think? It's actually not a big deal at all. He does not think I'm completely crazy. He accepts me no matter what. Back on track. Incentive to get better. I love him and what we have and I cannot fall into the trap of purging. I cannot waste my days shoveling food into my mouth - food that burns me because it's too hot, food that's past its expiration date, food that's been left out over night, food that no one else would ever think about eating, food that I don't even like. I cannot waste more time hunched over the toilet. I cannot waste more life like this.

Another slip up. But dealt with in honesty, acceptance, and the viewpoint that this will happen and it won't mean I'm not making progress. I will go to treatment tomorrow, I will be honest and accountable with my boyfriend, my family, my therapists, my treatment-mates. And someday, when this is all said and done, I will be able to eat two or three powdered donuts on the 1-year anniversary of meeting the best person in the world, the person I could see myself with forever, and have it be just that. Donuts. Food. Fuel. Life.