I’ve had a lot of trouble writing here since May, and I think a big part of it is because I don’t want to admit that I haven’t been doing particularly well.
I mean, I’m fine. I’m certainly worlds away from where I was when I got out of the eating disorder treatment center a year ago, but lately I’ve been having what my therapist calls a “symptom flareup” - insomnia, loss of appetite, hypervigilance. Loss of confidence in myself and my future.
I’ll be fine, of course. I’m always fine. What trips me up is that sometimes I take an honest look at my life and it doesn’t really seem seem worth living.
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