So Tired

Have you ever had that feeling in your stomach...the one where you feel a little short for oxygen and your heart is beating real fast? That me, right now. I am laying in bed and for some reason I just realized that going back into treatment isn't just a thing im considering or a fleeting thought out in the future...its most likely a reality that is coming sooner than later. I remember that day when I got on the plane to fly to remuda ranch, scared to death, regretting the decision to board that plane at all. I cried for days. I remember getting to make a phone call to let my mom know I was there safely and just sobbing telling her I changed my mind and I wanted her to come get me. I thought I had just entered hell. So as the reality of the situation and the location of treatment gets settled and figured out...narrowing it down one by one...i get a little short for breath. The reality of the situation laying heavy on my chest...knowing that choosing to give up all control is the hardest decision I have to make...and to me, control is everything. So I sit thinking all this through...Im going to pay some people ALOT of money to hold me ransom, make me gain some weight, and take away the thing I have used as my life vest all my life. Its scary. And the craziest part, to me at least, is that I have convinced myself that I am totally ok. I convinced myself that everyone around me was making a bigger deal out of things then necessary because i somehow gave them that impression, which is my fault of course. But now everyone is concerned and worried and desperate for me...and I realize that I have been basing everything on the wrong picture the whole time. Its scary what the mind is capable of when the reality of what is is too much to contain...so I guess you create a way to make it more manageable.
People think treatment is the easy way out. People think that it is an easier choice...and in theory it is in the moment...because it is a delay...something off in the distance that makes me now crawl out of my skin right now. But then there comes this day when you think to yourself, "crap, what have I done?" I always taught when i got to this spot I would be able to reason with myself and say ok, now lets just eat and go on with life." So I get to this spot where I am like oh, yeah, treatment is expensive. Its scary. I have to leave all the people I know and love and who support me and go live with strangers who want to get me nice and yes, the "H" word. Healthy. In the mind of an anorexic its the code term for fat...its like we think they trick us into being what sounds like a good desirable thing and then the moment someone compliments you on how healthy you look you get tears in your eyes and you are reminded that you have lost your life long companion. Its a loss like any other...its painful, its scary, its lonely...but it does get better. Or so I have been told. An abusive relationship is replaced by health friendships and life becomes green and beautiful. But still, its unknown...so its hard to let go of what is when its all you have ever known...and to reach for something that you have to believe in faith is better than the life I have now. I can hear my words and vows I made with myself years ago...promising I would never need anything from anyone so that when those people left or died...nothing would change in my life. I was my stability...and all these years later I regret that more then I can express. Because now I stand before major life decisions, wondering when I will walk into a treatment center and give up my life to find healing unto a new one. I guess that feeling in the pit of my stomach is good...because it means the winds are changing...just like you feel moisture in the air before it even starts to rain...this feeling eludes to a great life shift at hand. Its scary...I'm not sure I am brave enough to keep walking...so I have faith for what will be as if it is already here. I believe the Lord when He says we will reach the other side of the sea... and I learn how to take off the heavy burdens I have carried for so long and walk in the strength and mercy that is new each morning. If only my heart could feel the truth instead of having a death grip on what it feels. My mind never has been good at convincing my heart of much up until now...but I guess there is always a first time for everything.