So many things I want to say

Since being put on bed rest last week and not able to attend school, I've had a lot of time to think, reflect, and cry. Here; let me try to explain:
First things first, fuck am I lonely. With both kids in school, I spend the entire mornings by myself. T's at work, and I have pretty much zero friends. It's not that I don't try. I try to get out there, get connected with people, other moms, anyone in general. But it's like no one wants anything to do with me. So here I sit, alone with my thoughts. Which brings me to why I wanted to write this post.
I cry a lot. Not in front of anyone, but when I'm alone. How do I say this without sounding like a horrible person? I miss the comfort of my ED. Ok, I know that sounds bad, but really, most of you can understand where I am coming from. There was something welcoming about my ED. Like I knew that when I needed a way to cope, it was there. I knew when I was feeling uncomfortable about the amount of my food or fluid intake, it was there. Always wanting to envelope me and tell me it was all going to be alright.
But see; that's the nasty thing about this monster. It wants you to think that it's the ONLY thing there to take care of you. Therefore, it isolates you from the outside world. It makes you believe that there is not another single thing that can make you feel the way it can. You become so wrapped up in your ED that anything that anyone else says, doesn't matter. That no one can possibly understand you the way that it does. It's hard for your loved ones, let alone you, to tell the difference between you and you ED. Two become one.
Currently, I am not wrapped in the vines of my eating disorder, and I think that's why I can write this post. To be thinking with my logical mind, not Ana's. Writing in my journal this morning, something pretty huge occurred to me. While in the midst of my ED, I wasn't aware of the damage it was doing to everyone in my world. I was so sick that I didn't care that my youngest was in the bathroom with me while I purged. Then to see him stick his fingers down his throat a couple days later, because he saw mommy do it. I was so sick that I wasn't aware that my oldest (who was 5 at the time of this incident), was completely capable of knowing that I was going to die because I wasn't eating, and told his therapist this.
Luckily (and maybe hopefully), my boys won't remember how sick I was when they get older. But that's not the case with T. Often, we painfully and regrettably talk about my ED. The heart attacks, the hospital visits, the countless hours I spent in the bathroom vomiting the food I just consumed. It's not like everyone didn't know what I was doing. Although I was quiet about it, and always fixed my makeup after purging, they all knew what I was doing. It became routine. And that's the way we were living our lives with Ana.
A lesser man would have walked away. A weaker man would have given up on me. But he didn't. He knew that behind all the starving, purging, cutting, and self-hatred, there was the girl that he fell in love with. Even when I didn't see her. Even when I welcomed death, embraced it with open arms because I felt there was nothing to fight for. T was there, when no one else was. He believed in me.
I'd say that about 85% of me enjoys my life without Ana constantly there. Yelling at me. Telling me what to do. Dictating what I can and can not eat. Counting every single calorie that enters my mouth. I was just telling my neighbor the other day, that it was normal for me to try to stay under 200 calories a day. 200! Then I would also go to the gym and make sure that my daily intake was in the negatives. No wonder why I was so weak. So tired. So irritable.
Now, I don't necessarily count every calorie, I usually just guess. I'd probably put my daily intake around 1,500-1,700 a day. Wow, writing that number down is kinda terrifying. But I know that I'm doing it for all the right reasons. I am currently at 110lbs. That is 31lbs above my lowest weight. I remember a point in time when I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself get into the triple digits, but alas, here I am. And I'm ok with that. For the moment anyway. I've read several articles that have said that an ED doesn't ever completely go away. That it's always in the back of your mind, in one form or another.
My biggest goal is to be ok and accept my body for the way it is after Syrsha is born. I've accepted that I will never be a size double 0 again, so I've already gotten rid of all of my "anorexic clothing." I want to love myself for the person that God intended me to be. I don't see it being an easy journey, but definitely attainable.
So I know this turned out to be a long post, and actually, I started writing it yesterday afternoon, but as we all know, life gets in the way. I've enjoyed reading and catching up on all of your blogs. Just remember that we attain perfection, but what is perfection? None of us really know. Just know that you are loved.
Lots of Love,
XOXO Katie