The idealization of suffering is truly a seductive fallacy and if not dangerous for me, certainly reminiscent of the days where Anorexia almost took my life. As I go along with my recovery from my eating disorder among other diagnoses, the seductive thoughts of relapse intertwine with daydreams of a black and white future. In fact, when I was in the midst of my illness, suffering became my reality and personality. It's as if ED had consumed my perception of what was around me, to the point where I found myself enjoying the suffering that came from my behaviors and thoughts.

This kind of involvement and complete satisfaction with where I was, made choosing recovery a questionable if not an illogical choice. Now as I look back ED only allowed me to feel happiness through suffering, and that happiness was fleeting if not rare. At the time it was the only happiness I knew so when another path was shown to me I would push it away, having that all too familiar voice in my head telling me the only way to attain that happiness was that struggle in black and white. Perfection is another word for it but it goes much deeper than that, perfection meant a sort idea that I was willing to die for, even though I knew logically I could never reach it.

This destroyed me the idea that perfection could never be reached, and as I realized that I tried to kill myself at the age of 14. That night in the hospital I remember realizing that what I was doing was unsustainable, and in all actuality, I saw what I had become, borderline psychotic, horribly depressed, and ready to end my life at such an early age. I knew then that my only choice was to choose recovery because it wasn't about me; it was about everyone who cared about me. Most people will tell you, "You need to find reasons for yourself for recovery", but at first it was for my loved ones, a value and ideal bigger than the grasps of ED.

I saw the reality of what ED did to those around me, those who suffer from it aren't always the people who are diagnosed with it. I remember seeing my parents cry, because of the powerlessness they had over my reality. They've told me they wish I could see what they see, that the reality they live isn't so torn between weakness and strength or based around the idealization of suffering. As I have seen this I thought seeing their point of view would make me weak or in ED's words FAT.

Then at the age of 15 I was hospitalized again, due to mental health reasons, and although I had seen glimpse outside of ED's views, I was very much entrenched. Though I no longer believed in perfection, I saw the world in black and white. Although at the time I had not realized this and still struggle with a concept of there being a limit to suffering; I saw the pain I had inflicted on my loved ones and I saw the world outside of perceptual reality, or as others call it...I hit rock bottom.

But as I go along with recovery I practice internal validation, knowing that what I have experienced, although not as bad as others, was enough for me. With that comes self compassion, knowing that my suffering is my own and non-consuming, or "it is what it is." The issue comes when I put meaning behind it, and from that meaning comes idealization and that struggle. Instead I practice acceptance. I give up the fight all together, that clash between Henry and ED, and I accept the illogical intrusive thoughts as just that, without listening to them. Sometimes in life we have to listen to people we don't agree with or believe, but due to our value and goals we listen anyway.

I see this as the same with ED, I listen but try not to attach the judgments or thought patterns that come with it. Now the ironic thing about this is there is no perfection to this, realizing I was human was most likely the most freeing thing I've ever done for myself. And with being human we struggle, but my instead of struggling to push thoughts away I struggle to just let them float by using acceptance.