The Eating Disorder Recovery Podcast

I've not written a blog for months. I've been moving house, had little internet connection, and been generally busy, and tired. I'm glad that this past couple of weeks I had felt like I have the time and space to start writing again, so there will be blogs to come, soon. I wanted to put something down to express my gratitude for all of you who have listened to and supported my podcast over the past three years. I didn't think that it would go anywhere, or that anyone would really listen to it. Well, you did. So thank you. I've had such support for the podcast, that I feel extremely guilty about announcing that I will not be producing any more episodes. But, as I discovered in the last 6 months or so, feeling guilty about stopping is not a good enough reason to keep going. I'd rather than stop completely than keep it going, but only publish episodes sporadically. Podcasts are a lot of work. Finding people to interview, scheduling interviews, and editing audio after interviews. If I am quick, an episode may take 6 hours start to finish (including scheduling etc), but many episodes take more like 10. It is a time thing. It's not that I don't have time. I can always make time. These days, my "free" time — time to do absolutely nothing productive at all — is increasingly precious and glorious to me. I am growing less inclined to give it up. I'm more selfish about my time — unapologetically, I enjoy that I enjoy being just me, without being the 'doing stuff' me. This 'wanting to do nothing' is actually exactly something that scared me when I had anorexia. I was scared that if I allowed myself to rest, I would always want to rest. I would forget how to be productive. My 'value' would decrease. Because when I was sick, I thought my value was in my ability to never rest, and always be productive. (Which, if you think about it, in a famine, would be about right.) The wonderful thing about being human in a brain that doesn't have anorexia any more, doesn't perceive that resources are scarce, and therefore doesn't believe that value is in productivity, is that I have the freedom to see the real value of being human. I know that sounds incredibly deep and ridiculous, but it is true. The other night, I was going to make this podcast. I had an hour or so. I was making my way up my back porch steps, and one of the puppies followed me up and "pawed" me on the leg, asking for attention. Years ago, when my value was in being productive, I either wouldn't have noticed him, or I would have noticed him, and gone inside anyway. These days, I'm more inclined to sit on the floor and play with the dogs because they asked than I am to go inside and start editing audio. Sometimes it is a puppy. Sometimes it is a horse. Sometimes it is a pattern that the wind has made in the snow that I need to stare at. Sometimes, very often, it is snuggling with Matt. I never take for granted my recovered brain. A brain that allows me to see the value in happiness, and being human. Never, ever, take it for granted. I feel blessed to have known a brain in starvation mode, if only because it allows me to know the bliss of not being there. Anyway. That's my way of saying there will be no more podcasts. Just because it is the right time to stop. I appreciate you for listening.