I have had a whirlwind summer. I went quite literally halfway across the globe and pushed myself way out of my comfort zone. I learnt about new cultures, and areas of academia, and ultimately grew as a person. Travelling is when I am at my happiest and even though Kevin is normally lurking somewhere in the shadows, he is never as loud. I have immense gratitude for the people and experiences that gave me some of the most incredible months and memories of my life.
When I am abroad I also have a temporary hiatus from therapy, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, I get to put my problems on a shelf in a sealed box and forget about them for a while. On the other hand, (to my dismay) when I return to unpack the neatly wrapped packages they all have remained in mint condition…
I went back to therapy this morning and began to take boxes down from shelves that have been sitting there since April. I realised I have been at this whole eating disorder recovery thing for two years. Two fricking years. I mean, I had a faint idea how long it would take to recover but Jesus, two years? Anorexia really is the bitch who doesn’t want to leave the room, she just always has some snarky comment to whisper in your ear.
While I love many parts of my college experience, this campus is full of triggers. So far I am bumbling through but I know I can be doing A LOT better. Learning is one of my big loves (nerdy, I know), perhaps that’s why I adore intentional travel, and I am so happy to be back in an academic setting. However, balancing books alongside a backlog of emotions had taken its toll on me the last couple of days. I think I need to establish a better routine. Stability is key yet a frenemy: I need it for my recovery but I loathe it because I have to deal with the shit that I have been battling with for two years.
Come next Monday I am going to hope I have a stricter calendar with built-in rest and mealtimes. That’s the goal, fingers crossed I can map it out over the coming days!
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