Recovering vs recovered

   Even now three years into my recovery somedays I wonder if my demons will ever completely go away. I know this is a big debate between people, everyone has a different opinion on whether you can completely be recovered from your ED meaning you no longer are in that constant battle that one feels when recovering. Now before people start biting my head off, I'm not saying it is impossible, but saying that it might not be possible for everyone. I've never been shy about my struggles or tried to hide my past. I am not ashamed of what I did while I was sick, not proud but not ashamed. I hit the bottom, I lived in my own hell unable to find a way to escape. When I thought I couldn't endure anymore pain I swallowed enough pills to end up in the intensive care unit and even then I simply felt like more of a failure and fell deeper into it all. Three years ago I was convinced I would die starving and bloody because I couldn't begin to find a way to climb out.
   I didn't make the decision to try recovery overnight, I figured why try the docs tell me I'm chronic, that I will never stop. I gave up my hope and became the demon inside, when you spoke to me I could look through you planning my next session with a razor or deciding how I would or wouldn't nourish myself. I was dead inside...the Andrea that exsisted before the anorexia and the cutting wasn't there. I was mean to everyone who tried to save me, I was broken in everyway possible. I never thought I could come back. I met Josh and he immediately saw how bad the situation was and tired to jump in and save me like so many before had done. He found me as broken as anyone could be, I didn't want to live anymore after being raped, my mom dying and living with a guy who was just not good. He tried the way others did at first, forcing me to do things, hiding my meds and razors, and the list goes on. It wasn't long before he realized that I had to save myself, but he made the choice to be there for me, he made it ok for me to not be ok. He never told me I was a bad person or declared I would burn in hell for my sins, he never treated me like a child, and he offered me a level of respect that only one other person has ever given me. There was no quick fix, I had a hole of epic size to crawl out of and that starts first with reaching up.
   Here I am three years into my recovery and I am still climbing, I've fallen and been broken but I stood back up bloodied and bruised and started climbing again. These last few years have been the hardest in my life, I've had to learn to feel without running to a razor or using food and my body to deal. I won't lie my demons are still there, they hide in the fog and every so often they creep back in and try to drag me back. I still crave razorblades sometimes my skin crawls and I think how much I would love to numb out again and then I stop and realize that it has broken through and I am able to tell myself that it won't fix things I will only be letting my past win. I am not that shell anymore. I am a mother to the most amazing baby in the world and that is more important to than anything so I fight.
   I believe that some people will have the gift of being able to say they are completely recovered and that is so amazing but some will fight for their recovery their whole life. I know I'm the latter, I will always battle my demons and I'm okay with that it keeps me on my toes and doesn't let me forget where I came from. The anorexic cutter is still inside me, still clinging to that hope that I will breakdown. I fight my battles everyday and I will be damned if I don't win this war. I do hold strong in my recovery everyday, but I've been to hell and back and I can't forget it, I can't move on and say I'm recovered. For me that is dangerous I have to be constantly aware of myself and my thoughts, I'm just that kind of person.
   The pain I have from my past is still there it hasn't disappeared, but I can deal with it without surrendering. My skin crawls somedays for an edge so bad I have no words and somedays I think about not running my feeds and feeling empty and it is super tempting, but then I look at that beautiful boy and realize the old me who embraced my demons was selfish and once you are a mom there is no room for selfishness. I vowed the day I had him that he would never see his momma with cuts on her or visit me on an ED unit and that is one vow I will never break. He might see me in the hospital because of the gastroparesis, but he will never see the girl I use to be. It is bad enough that he could very well grow up without his mommy, he will remember me as the loving mom who would give her very life for him not some starved, cut up shell of a human being.
   I will battle this for the rest of my life, my arms will tingle for a razor and my mind will scream at me that I'm somehow weak for allowing nourishment, for not weighing eighty pounds and I will fight every lie that breaks through. I am proud of my recovery but not naive its a battle that I could lose if I take my guard down. I saw the way it was going to end three years ago, it is a miracle I survived because I probably shouldn't have. Before I began my climb out of hell I overdosed three times almost succeeding if not for a friend breaking in that wasn't suppose to be there, I needed six stitches to close a cut in my wrist, and I was needing to be kept at the hospital just to make sure they could stablize my nutrition. Recovery is not easy, its messy and you won't be perfect but its worth it. I might not be completely free from my demons but I can now push them back and not give in. The end result of keeping your behaviors is death and trust me I didn't believe that when it first started but once I hit that bottom death was all there was if I couldn't climb out. If I wouldn't have reached up I would be in the ground with my mother today. You cannot live with an ED, it will pull you until there is nothing and no one left but you and your eating disorder and that is a very lonely place. Please don't give up just keep fighting because it is worth it.