Stuck in Sand

I am pretty sure that I have started this post on several different occasions. I've started it and stopped and deleted and saved and started over so many times that I can't keep track. Now, this post isn't going to be some crazy post full of deep juicy gossip or in sight on the meaning of life. It is going to be an honest post. Again. It won't be as dark as my last post but it will be honest non the less.

My journey through life and recovery has found it's way into a desert and my car is stuck in sand while spinning it's wheels ferociously trying to get out of the mess. I am the car for those of you who aren't following my metaphor here…I've been stuck for a good three weeks (give or take). I was stuck to the point of needing to return to day treatment at Renfrew. Today was my fifth day back and I'm surviving but hardly. I have lost myself in this mess of sinking sand. I have lost the voice in me that knows what is best for Caitlan. I hear my parents voices and I hear my treatment team's voices and I hear my eating disorder's voice but I can't find me anywhere. I am torn in the middle of this tug-a-war trying to find a way to make everyone happy. I find it humorous that I am in this situation considering this was a HUGE contributor to me developing an ed in the first place, attempting to make everyone else happy but not myself. Doesn't make sense but yet so many of us are caught in this situation.

In result of losing myself in the midst of chaos I have disconnected myself from God. It could be because I am doubting Him, I have lost trust in Him or I'm afraid to see what He has to say to me. Or it could be for reasons that I am unaware of but I am suffering without allowing Him into my life and heart during this period of such darkness. I know without a doubt He is the reason I am still choosing to get up every day and spend 5 hours in intensive treatment, which also means there is some sort of hope inside of me. Honestly, I don't know how people do this recovery business without Jesus. I have Jesus in my life and am just being stubborn about reaching out and grabbing His hand that He is holding out to me and because of my hard head I am suffering the consequences of it. But there is still that small flame in my heart that keeps me going everyday.

So that is where I am currently. Debating between levels of treatment, treatment at all, moving out, where I want to move to and school. It has been brought to my attention by several people that it appears to them that I am using treatment as a crutch and I am too comfortable with it. For those of you who believe that I respect your opinions but let me assure you one thing; if there was a way for me to wake up one morning and magically be recovered and be discharged for good from treatment then it would have happened by now. I am doing the best I can every day. That may look different every day but I know that each day we are given just the amount of strength we need to make it through and for me I believe that God is giving me enough to do what  can at this moment of my recovery. To others it may not look like enough or like I'm not putting effort into it or I am using treatment to get attention and stay sick but I do what I can with the strength given to me. And right now there is a lot going on and I am carrying a lot of stress and burdens so recovery may look a little different. It doesn't mean I am not trying. Everyday that I choose to get out of bed and eat breakfast is me trying 100% and if it doesn't look like that to others then I am going to have to get over it because I know deep down I am doing what I can do to make it through each day.