Tonight John and I stood in our kitchen. His arms wrapped tightly around me as I cried. As I stood there overwhelmed and upset, he reminded me of how proud he is of me and how much he loves me. As we stood there I thought about our upcoming wedding. I thought about last Valentine's Day when I wouldn't even eat the chocolate covered strawberries that he went out of his way to make me. How we spent one of our first anniversaries at Moe's because I couldn't handle eating anywhere else. All of the nights where he has sat at the dinner table alone because I won't eat. Or worse, the fights and temper tantrums I have thrown when he has tried to help me at meal times.This doesn't even begin to explain the toll that anorexia has taken on our relationship. The countless nights I have spent wrapped up in his arms crying hysterically or completely numb and out of touch with reality because I am undernourished.
When I think about all of this I am overcome with sadness. It pains me that my eating disorder has been such a big part of the first few years of our life together. It upsets me to no end the amount of memories that it's invaded and the moments it's stole from us. These times that we will never be able to get back.
The past few weeks have been a struggle for me. My recovery that seemed to be going smoothly, hit a few bumps and then fell off of a cliff. It's a slippery slope and before I knew it I was drowning. This week my normal encouragement wasn't working and I felt discouraged.
Today I was reminded of what I am fighting for.
A long, healthy relationship with the love of my life. A chance to grow old with the most amazing, kind, caring, understanding, supportive, loving and patient man I know. To be able to laugh, smile and enjoy each others company and the little things in life. To eventually have children and be able to love them unconditionally, watch them grow up and help guide them along the way.
In three and a half months John and I will be getting married. I don't want our wedding to be another thing the eating disorder steals from us. Although recovery is difficult, it isn't as painful as the isolation that anorexia causes.
Sometimes I think John must seriously be crazy in order to stick around and continue to love me through all of the ups and downs. Yet I thank God for this everyday. I don't have all of the answers or any for that matter, but I know what I am fighting for. I am fighting for us.