To you the reader (if you've never met me), may find that a bit contradicting. I know a lot of other people who know me and would think the same.
As previously mentioned, participants of this group aren't hiding under the sheets as I was doing. For the most part, if I was in a dangerous situation, they would be the best bodyguards on the planet. No bending of these spines, I wish I had a bit of their gumption. Therefore I completely understood why no mingling outside group was strongly enforced.
Floors washed, toilets scrubbed, counters dusted, furniture moved to get to the dust... Not only to vacuum, but to shammy off any spots or that weird layer of dust that lingers. We're talking a job that starts shortly after 8am and doesn't end until the whole place smells of chemical disinfectant.
I've spoken to many mental health professionals at all levels, and one thing they all agree on is that eating disorders are the hardest mental illness to treat.
All I knew was being obese, being inactive, and not giving a fuck what food I ate increased the odds of my cancer coming back. Never would I be an eating disorder.