I embarked on recovery in February - a good six months ago. I’m so close to being better that I am stamped with ‘recovered’. I'm not sure what that means. I can't talk to my boyfriend because I know he doesn't understand and as wonderful as he is (I owe a lot to him in this recovery) I know he'll just get frustrated, tell me I have a beautiful body and expect that to be enough. If I cry and scream, get hysterical and explain the depth of it all, it will get me no further. He'll just get angry and we'll argue. My mum still feels the need to watch me, and she cares I know, but what can I say to her? They all think that I just need reassurance. I have a large group of friends, all fantastic, but I can't bother them when they think that I am doing so well, and at the end of the day such a huge burden as my recovery is not what they need. Where exactly am I meant to turn? I’m not a risk to myself anymore – I am marginally underweight but I’m nothing to worry about and I’m not even engaging in eating disordered behaviours anymore. Basically, I’m stuck in limbo – that dreadful place where most people relapse.
Counselling isn't an option for at least another month, and my experience with them and psychiatrists (recently) is far from satisfactory. I want to know what I can do when my day is so set on one thing, I have nowhere to turn but my own head, and I am going crazy in the chaos.