I am at a weird part in my recovery right now.

I feel like I am very much living alongside anorexia rather than with it, and it’s kind of lonely. It’s voice is still there but it’s quieter, and I am able to ignore it for probably 80% of the time, which is a place I never thought I’d get to. I still have strong urges to restrict what I am eating and to lose weight, but I am able to override them with an urge to live a fuller and happier life.

The problem with succeeding at recovery however, is that it also means failing at having an eating disorder, and every step away from it I take, the more I feel like I am letting it down. I feel guilty for failing it, something that has been so consistently reliable in my life. Gradually, as I move further…