Am I a Warrior?

I often think I'll never be able to do this.

Because this is just too hard.

Providing for my kids isn't easy. Having to rely on an inconsistent child support check is not easy. Getting overdrafts in my bank account is not easy.

It all makes me feel like I'm failing.

Because I am not this girl. I am not the girl who can't keep her budget straight. My first overdraft fee ever in my life was last year, the day after Thanksgiving. I had gone -$2.00 and my anxiety went through the roof. The second time was this summer and it was much worse. Both of those times, it was due to lack of funds from Peter. In November, he was refusing to pay me much. In July, he had moved to a different state and forgot to send the money for---you know---ten days.

But now I have a job. I should be able to keep us stable on my own.

I should be able to be an adult.

But when my eating disorder controls me and my OCD gives me severe anxiety, I feel like I cannot control anything in my life---and that includes my own damn bank account.

It really shouldn't be this hard. These are stupid, simple things.
These are things I don't like talking about---because they make me feel incompetent and whiny.

My kids are fed. We have a home. We have clothes and shoes and toys and extras that we are super grateful for.

I don't want to talk about this but it won't leave my mind. Shame has entrapped me into believing a lot of things lately. For example:
Eating 3 meals a day is bad.
Not saving money is something only idiots do.
In order to be happy, you should have an empty stomach.
In order to be happy, you need to spend money.
In order to be happy, you should never need help.

Lies.
I get it.
I see it when I write it down.
None of those things are truths.

Why am I still allowing myself to be the girl not in eating disorder recovery? Why am I fooling myself into thinking that I am doing just fine when my actions prove otherwise?

When did I become the girl who doesn't want to eat? 

Some days, I really believe I'm in recovery. I pat myself on the back and count how long it's been since I've purged and get all proud of myself...as if bulimia is the only type of eating disorder I'm supposed to have on my recovery radar. But I don't know if this is me being delusional or if I really have been fighting. Because eating a few goldfish crackers a day is not really classified as recovery. It just seems like I've found a loop hole.

As much as I like having an empty stomach these days, I function better and have a healthier body when I eat.

When did all of this reverse? When did I become the girl who doesn't want to eat? When did I become the girl who actually thinks that germs might kill her?

When I touch a door handle, I feel like I can't put my hands near my face for a while because I might just die from whatever germs I contract.

Death and OCD---never before was I the girl who actually feared anything specific when it comes to my obsessions. None of them had any rhyme or reason. And I don't like that they are starting to control things.

I wear sweaters because it's cold---I also wear sweaters because I can wrap the long sleeves over my fingers to touch things I don't want to touch.

I don't want to be this girl but I also don't want to fight her. I'm sick of fighting. I've done a lot of work this year and accomplished a lot of things---I'm angry that I am still having to fight.

I just want to feel good enough for myself. I get that other people like me---but I want to like me too. I don't want to be ashamed of myself.

Single mom life sucks today.
I feel alone within myself. I know that's confusing. It sure isn't easy to explain. I guess I just know that I have friends and family who love me but I still feel like I'm walking through life alone. I make all of my big decisions by myself. I fall asleep every night by myself. There is no one to pick up the slack and not have me feeling guilt over it. I cannot go out with friends without feeling guilt for the babysitters that save me time and time again.

Why do people have to save me?
I don't want to be saved.
I just want to be strong enough.

But what does strength mean to me?
Because today strength means patting myself on the back for not eating anything by 4:00pm. Today strength means ignoring all of the things my heart tells me and listening to my brain.

And that just doesn't really sound like strength.