So I've been doing some thinking.

Oh guys. This is is gonna be one of those posts where...you know, it's just hard for me to type up.

It's one of those posts where I know what I want to say, but don't really know how to put it into words, and one of those posts where I get really raw and am not sure if I want to share my thoughts with the world or not.

(Just to let you know, there hasn't been some tragedy or sad event that's happened in my personal life, in case you were wondering. This is more within myself.)

But I've been doing some thinking. Namely, recovery thinking. You all know my history and struggles and what not, but have I really been honest with myself lately?

People, I joined the cross country team. I run and I love it and it makes me happy and did I mention I love it. That's perfectly fine!

I eat super duper healthy. I love healthy food and it makes me happy and I did I mention I love it. And that's perfectly fine! (Nut butter lovers, holla!)

BUT fsjdipgjpdifjasklfmsdp[gw]kp.

Let's get to the point. I am so incredibly happy and blessed in the season of my life. But guys, here comes the doozy that hurts my pride and self esteem to admit: I am not 100% recovered.

With the blog, I mention time and time again that I am not fully recovered, but even in those phrases or rants that I go on, I show you all my heart through rose-colored glasses. I talk myself through my frustrations (one of the benefits of a blog) and act like I'm working so hard and everything is just going to be super duper because heck yes, I'm kicking Ed's butt!

But here's the sad truth that I've been slowly realizing after appointments with my therapist, nutritionist, and even just knowing within myself - I've been in a really comfortable, complacent place in my recovery for way too long. I'm at a healthy weight, I have the a-okay to run as much as I please, and those two things pretty much ruled what I thought was true recovery. I'm also off of blind weights (huge accomplishment, guys), I always always make sure to fuel well before and after running, and I'm okay with desserts. But since I've reached these goals, it's not all that matters in true recovery. And it sucks to realize that.

I've actually maintained about 90% of my healthy weight for over a year. I should be 100% or more (because 100% is the 'average' weight for my age/height). I thought this was okay.

I still have amenhorrea (NO BUENO). I've been telling myself that I'll get my period back eventually, but if you're not at healthy weight, it won't. And I want kids in my (far far off) future. I thought waiting would be okay.

Omg while we're still chugging along on the honesty train I'm just going to admit it: I worry about calories if I feel I've gone too high, and while I'm not scared of a healthy weight per say, I'm just scared of spiraling out of control. I thought being at a "comfortable" weight was okay.

This is not okay.

I actually discovered and read these two posts from Amanda's blog, which is what compelled me to even write this at all. They so perfectly describe the situation I'm in that I felt like I was literally breaking my own heart reading them. I just....hurt. My heart, my head, my pride, everything I that I felt I had been working towards. I felt like my accomplishments were not accomplishments at all.

When I think about this, I feel like a failure.

I think what hurts the most is I literally don't know how to get myself out of this place, because  95% percent of the time, I feel great! I love my whole grains and healthy foods, and I love running, and I have other interests outside of those things as well. Making healthy choices and exercise is a part of life, but I have trouble figuring out how to fit in that last 5%, and what it really even is/means for me.

I think about Kath, Robyn, Amanda, and Miranda and think, "What the heck is different about me than them?!" (Okay, comparing isn't exactly the healthiest mindset, but I'm trying to prove a point.)

So anyways. I'm in kind of a tough position with myself right now. I've got some thinking and praying to do - because I'm tired of living comfortably if I'm not living to my full potential. There's just one more step.