Post-boot life and bold faced words of hope

I have one week of  non-boot life under me.  One week of excitement, people high-fiving, giddy squeals, normal conversations with customers, happiness, jumping up and down to exclaim, seeing 2 white legs, ironman tattoo re-showing off, swimming, cycling, running around with kiddos, crossing my legs, sitting with my legs on the couch, and everything that I have dearly missed for 13 weeks.

So PoMegranate and I reunited.

I have one week of exercising back and wow did I forget what this life felt like.  When they told me I could swim and bike again I took it as 'free for all'.  I proceeded to see Susan a few hours later who 'subtly' informed me that my Three Oaks rules applied; everything I did in treatment still continued on.  This means no rides over 20 miles, no runs over 6 miles (when I get back to running), no 2 a-days.  This was a bubble buster to say the least, however I 'thought' I understood why and respected the decision we came to. 

Queue the weekend.

 

This weekend I rode 'long' but easy on Saturday (more than 20 miles), and rode hard Sunday afternoon for 20 miles (almost 19 mph baby!).  And let me just say; that can't happen again.  I so desperately want to be able to train like a normal person.  I enjoy the feeling after a hard ride, but it's what happens before and after that gets in the way.  I keep forgetting that at the end of the day I am not a 'normal' girl.  I have something in my way that will take longer than I realize to re-train within me.

I have chemicals in my brain that are finally balanced and for that I am more thankful and grateful that you will ever know, unless you've been here.  Unless you have gotten to FEEL what happens when a stupid pill takes over your brain and makes you induced to be bipolar.  Yep.  That was the official diagnosis.  I contemplated whether it was 'appropriate' for my blog however, it's not who I am, just a word; just a fact; NOT a definer.  It also makes the next paragraph even more powerful for my soul.

Therefore, it makes me so thankful I could scream (and have) of my thankfulness for my tribe.  Everyone who rallied beside me, who came to where I was in life and accepted my place.  Who listened to me ramble about who knows what, who saw the craziness I embodied and loved me despite it; who literally picked me up from work when I was so disassociated I couldn't drive.  Who stayed through my tears, screaming, sleeping for days, lack of sleeping, rages, unwise spontaneity moments, crazy texts and phone calls.  The people who rescued me when I was too lost inside myself to even realize it. Those are the people to keep; these are my breath of life.  The people who watched me start and finish Three Oaks, and the emotional rawness from that.  My work family who will hold a special place in my heart that let me non-chalantly talk about my days.  The friends that checked-in on me to see how I was.  I need a novel to relay the stories of people saving my life daily; to keep me from going too deep inside myself when all hope was lost.
Thank you doesn't suffice, but that's a good place to start.

work throw back pic!

I have been getting frustrated at as my 'thorn in my side' as Paul calls it.  I always wonder what his addiction was.  I know mine is an eating disorder-so what is his?  Even if he didn't have a classified 'addiction', what was his? To help you relate, fathom your 'thorn'.  Now imagine having to come into contact with it everyday multiple times a day (food). Now add in the coin of 'exercise control'.   Welcome to recovery.

Anyways, so where does this bring me?  It brings me back to square one.  It brings me back to swimming, and only riding my trainer for an hour.  It brings me to not riding outside unless I have to with the training group, and when so only riding with the back of the pack.  It brings me to exercising for the good of my body and not training (competing/comparing) my talents with everyone else's.  It takes me away from some social aspects but continues to bring me to new ones.

This is a 'new' facet of recovery as a dear friend of mine called it, and that is what *this* is.  Post-boot life is a new realm to figure out.  It's one that is not a blast, yet simultaneously so much fun.  This is not what 24 was expected to be, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

So.  Here goes something.