My New May 30th

May 30th, 2017 was my rock bottom. Or at least one of several rock bottoms my poor life and body have had to face in their short 19 years on this Earth. Because on May 30th, I had given up on my life and had handed over my life to the power of the eating disorder, and the only way to prevent me from losing my life completely and irreversibly was by being hospitalized on an inpatient eating disorder floor. And so on May 30th, 2017, I went to my outpatient program in the morning, not knowing (or believing) the severity of the situation until my clinician pulled me out of group to tell me that the hospital had an open bed and was expected me as soon as possible. I stared at her in disbelief, not quite knowing how to express the rushing of thoughts and emotions through my head. Because there were so many conflicting thoughts, conflicting emotions, and I didn’t quite know which ones were the right ones and which ones were the wrong ones, or if feelings could even be right or wrong. I felt scared. Because I was going to be left alone to the hands of medical professionals I had never met before in a place I had never been. And I knew from past experience that there were some pretty scary moments that could come out of an inpatient stay on an eating disorder floor. I was upset. Because I was going to be leaving my family, my boyfriend, my friends, my final month of school, and my life behind as I was locked up an a medical floor that had complete control over me. I was angry. Because I was being told what to do, where to go, and how others would be taking over my life when all I wanted was for power to be given back to me, or rather my eating disorder. And I was also relieved. Because I knew I couldn’t continue to live my life this way, I couldn’t continue to bear the torture of the eating disorder. Because I couldn’t do this on my own. And I needed help. But overall, I felt defeated, hopeless, and lifeless. And I felt like a complete failure. On May 30th, 2017, I lost all freedom, all control, all power over my life. But I began my journey of regaining my freedom, my control, and the life I so desperately wanted to live. May 30th, 2017 is a day I never ever want to live again. May 30th, 2017 is a day to forget. But that the eating disorder makes so hard to forget. So that is why I made sure May 30th, 2018 was a day full of life, living, happiness, and recovery. I made May 30th, 2018 a day to remember. Here we are a year later, and I can’t even begin to express how happy I am to be living my life instead of losing it. To be free to live the life I have always dreamed of instead of being locked out of it. To be capable of making my life the best life instead of letting my eating disorder end my happiness, my freedom, and my life. One year later, and I have completely and fully dedicated myself to my recovery. So on May 30th, 2018, I pushed harder than ever to prove to the world that I am Shell and not my eating disorder. That I am in recovery, living my life, loving my life, and creating the life I want. Not the life my eating disorder wants. Anniversaries of treatment and relapses can be extremely difficult, trying, exhausting and painful. And I had the choice to make yesterday as difficult and trying and exhausting and painful as possible, allowing my anxiety and depression to get the best of me, and living back the memories rather than accepting the memories and choosing to let them go. I had the choice to make yesterday miserable, to use it as an excuse to get out of recovery for at least the day, if not longer, to revert back to my old ways, to take the path that the eating disorder so desperately wants me to take. But I also had the choice to choose recovery. To make the most of my anniversary in commemorating all of the progress I have made and recovery I have gained. To live my life, love my life, and move forward in my life and recovery. And so I chose recovery. I chose my life. And I couldn’t be happier with my decision. Yesterday, I decided, after building up the strength and courage to do something I have never done before, that I was going to take the step to eliminate exercise from my life for the time being. And not just partially. A complete elimination to help my mind and body restore their health completely. And so today, instead of going on my obsessive, vigorous walk, I woke up, made myself a nutritious breakfast full of flavor, and then went down with my mom to help out at the Portland Food Bank that my grandmother runs. Because I know that pouring my heart out to others and volunteering my time and energy to helping the world is one of the best ways to help me recover my mind, body, and soul. I have replaced a behavior that ruins and controls my life with a behavior that builds up my life and the world around me. Win win. And yesterday, I conquered another one of my biggest fears, the fear of eating out, outside the comfort of my home and my cooking and my control, and I chose a restaurant outside of my “safe” zone to make the accomplishment that much greater. So my boyfriend and I made our way to Shake Shack in West Hartford, ordering burgers and fries and refreshing drinks to satisfy our hunger and our taste buds. And I enjoyed every. Single. Bite. And moment of our time together, enjoying each other’s company, the savory flavors, the amazing weather, and the celebration of a year working towards recovery, the celebration of life. And we decided, why stop there? And that what better way to end a day of success and recovery than with a 50 cent Frosty from Wendy’s? So we picked up two vanilla frosties to celebrate a sweet life in recovery and to end May 30th, 2018 with complete success and recovery, the complete opposite of one year prior. I made the most of an anniversary that had the ability to tear me down, and I showed it who was boss. Because this is my life and my recovery, and I will celebrate the progress that I have made towards my life rather than choosing to let one day take me down. I have decided that May 30th, 2017 is a day to forget. But I made sure May 30th, 2018 was a day to remember. A day to remember in recovery, in memories, in life. And so now I can say May 30th is a good day. And not just a good day, a great day, a recovery day, a day full of love and life and happiness. May 30th and every day moving forward is dedicated to moving forward and making the most of my life. Because I will not let the past be my present. So here is to many, many more May 30ths like yesterday, each and every day, because each and every day is going to be a day in recovery. A beautiful day in the life of Shell.