Yes, it is exactly that for me. I tried explaining what it feels like to my mother, but I don't think she completely got it... she just looked confused, when I tried to explain what it did to me physically. My body seemed to go through stages of repair, and each one wiped me out. I remember, at one point, being so constantly worn down and exhausted... that I was trying to talk to the one friend I have remaining (an online one who has stuck by me through it all), and ended up breaking down in tears because I could barely stay awake. That wasn't just it, though. As well read as I always was, it didn't prepare me for many of the physical aspects of it all. I think I could live forever, and never find words in the English language to describe some of them. To say it was maddening would be an understatement. To say it is maddening would.

In some ways, I do know that. That it's protective. And that's where the 'mental gymnastics' come into play. When my inner voices (of which I have many now) try to convince me that I'm the exception.. that I really do deserve it. (It can be tough typing this, but I am finding that in some ways... it is helping) It builds up way too fast. Sometimes, breathing can be hard, but I'm trying to remind myself to do so.

I think it may be. I've spent a lot of time wondering when the guilt would end, but now that I can clearly remember the.. 'time before' (for lack of a better phrase here) and can clearly think about it all, the guilt has only worsened. My mother asked me if I thought I was.. recovered. My only response was "Physically? I'm close. Mentally? Not by a long shot."

Reading your post helped. A lot. Sometimes.. we need to be reminded that we're capable. I'll probably take you up on that PM. Thank you.

I try to remind myself that the disorders aren't all that I am. It got hard, when my NP seemed to make everything all about them, though. I hope to.. one day find out how to live again. I think, right now, that is my biggest goal. I remember my therapist asking me what my goal was.. He said I needed one, for the system or something. I was pretty out of it that day. I don't even remember what I said. I wish I would have said to live again.

That's what I need, I think. Someone with a sofa to lie on. As much as my online friend is willing to listen, I think there's only so much even she can take without charging me by the hour (maybe that was a joke in bad taste, but it's like they say, if you can't laugh at yourself, who will?).