Writing this now, I feel some sort of inner peace...the sort of happiness I usually get when I know I have had a perfect day...well, perhaps not entirely perfect; as things never really are completely flawless. I don't really know how to define a perfect day for you exactly. For me, there are different types of perfect days: as in, there are a few ways in which I can spend a day that give me so much joy and happiness and which, when they draw to a close, cause me to look back upon with a sort of tearful happiness...and think, gosh. That was such a lovely, lovely day...if only they could all be like that.
But...and there is always a but with many, many things, I suppose...what made me realise that this particular day - this day being yesterday, by the way - was not entirely perfect in every single possible way? Well, I suppose you might have already guessed it...I had a little slip-up yesterday. A little one, but still, it was there and its presence is noticeable to me! You may laugh if I tell you what it was...but I feel as if I have to; and you may laugh or you may think that I'm pathetic, and that's ok, I sort of think I am, too...but I hope that you will try to understand and realise how significant this was, for me. In that I listened to the voice today and did something wrong. I knew it was wrong and so I then paniced a little and felt frightened, out of control, just for a brief, fleeting moment of time...but it passed and I felt ok again. And then, after my little slip-up, I had a little triumph of sorts over that voice, too. I ignored it; I quashed it, I beat it! But I suppose, what gets me down the most , is the fact that I can't seem to be able to ignore it all the time...and I really wish I could. I long for my head to be completely and utterly empty of all ED-type thoughts and trains of thinking...but I guess it will never be as simple and as straightforward as that...
But anyway, let me tell you about both my slip-up and my little triumph that happened...
My slip-up...at lunchtime, I was baking when Mam asked me was I ready for lunch, so I ate alone a little later on when I was finished what I was doing and Mam had gone into the lounge to listen to music. I really fancied a toastie; and an egg mix and some tomatoes to go alongside. I happily made an egg mix with a boiled egg, a bit of mayo and pepper. But then...then I thought...Oh, god...that's too much; I can't eat all that.
And so half of the egg mix got wrapped carefully in clingfilm and put back in the fridge. :( And I only had 1 piece of bread, instead of 2. Which seemed like enough to me, but my heart's telling me that it was wrong.
My triumph...at hot choc time a little later, I wasn't sure what biscuit to have with my choc....and then I saw a chocolate coated Oreo packet hidden at the very bottom of the biccie tin. No, the voice in my head dictated sternly. You can't have that! Not with a hot chocolate...that's wayyyy too extravagant! Have something smaller, less fattening! But this time I did not listen. I took that chocolate-coated Oreo out of the tin, sat in the conservatory with the afternoon sun warming my back and my mug and little plate in hand. And oh, it was just...so, so nice. I dipped the Oreo in the hot choc so the milk choc on the edges of the cookie went all soft and melted instantly as soon as I took a nibble off it after dunking...it was one of the nicest hot choc breaks ever, and I enjoyed every single bit of it.
I just wish that...that every single day could consist of just triumphs; no slip-ups! And then for me to be able to enjoy every single thing I eat, and feel good about myself; and to not have to worry, every single day - because yes, I do still worry an awful lot about it, and I want to make that clear to you - about what I am and am not eating. And sugar levels, and whether I'm eating enough, whether I had too little, of feeling full or being at all hungry...little fleeting thoughts, I know, but still; they all work together to contribute to me feeling not as happy as I believe I could be; that I have the right to be...
Fight it, fight it, fight it...if only, if only I could find some way to make it that bit easier. I feel as if I need some help, some helping hand to gently pick me up and set me on the right path again. And perhaps it is time to remind myself of why I need to do this; of why choosing recovery is choosing life, happiness, health. And then perhaps then I can make every day perfect...or at least, that bit nearer to perfection than ever before.
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