I'm a little over a month into recovery now. I wish I could say I feel GREAT. GREAT! How are you? Oh, I'm great, just great.  Grin. Crumble. Cry.  Parts of me ARE great. I'm so relieved to be free of alcohol. I don't have those embarrassing lapses in memory, forgotten conversations, worry about driving, worry about hiding, sneaking, lying, drinking, driving, buying, hiding, drinking, worrying, forgetting, sneaking, lying, worrying... Sigh. That's gone. It feels so good, that part.  I find myself talking to people now. It's as if I'm suddenly a person worthy of talking to. I can look people in the eye. It's a noticable change. I'm connecting better, probably because this is the real me, the one that's not putting up a big wall, the one that's not ashamed and hiding and hoping you can't see what I really am.  They say you stop growing and maturing at the age of onset of your eating disorder. If that's true, I'm all of 15 yrs old. Oh, to be 15 again. Actually, no thanks. But oh, to be able to go back and hug that little girl that was me, and tell her, "Don't go there, honey. It's not the way. We have bigger plans for your life than that."  They say you have to go back to the age of onset, and grow up FOR REAL this time. Whoever "they" is. I would love to be me again, before all that happened. Because I was a sweet person. I was shy, I was diligent. I was a good friend. A good kid. Never said a bad word about anyone. Really. I was a nice kid.  What happened to me? This is something worth finding out. I am something worth finding out.