The newest phase of my process is letting little-me talk.
Let her talk.
You are safe.
No one will hurt you.
You have strong, faithful, loving protection. It is ok to let her keep talking. As many times as she needs, even if it’s over the same thing. Even if you don’t even know why you’re saying what you’re saying.
The newest phase is making room for this protection by kicking the eating disorder out.
I can’t help but feel freedom and excitement alongside anxiety and grief as I begin to walk through this. Crying feels therapeutic, not devastating, lately. It feels purposeful and healing, not the catalyst for never-ending depression.
Last year around this time I had the same extremely overwhelming black hole thoughts I’m having now, but I truly thought it meant I needed to die. I didn’t think I could bear it. I didn’t think anyone else could understand. I definitely didn’t think my Wolfpack could replace my eating disorder & depression as a new way to protect me enough —no, better than—to let little-me start talking.
I’m holding the freedom I see inside that precious protection so close to my heart. All parts of me can see it and feel it now.
Just keep crying and screaming, baby girl, you’ve got this. ❤️