Choosing Recovery, Year 1, months 1-4

  In lieu of diet culture boomeranging back into fashion, I would like to share some of my eating disorder recovery journey. At this point I’ve been in recovery (9 years) longer than my eating disorder (7 years).

Year 1, months 1-4

I first wanted to recover from my eating disorder in February of 2017. A combination of reasons resulted in this decision. To put simply, I decided I didn’t want to die by the hand of my eating disorder. Too many nights for comfort I went to sleep with a pit in my stomach- not from hunger but from an impending sense of doom that I wouldn’t wake in the morning. That’s when I knew it needed to end. The trick was ending it.

Believe it or not, I always knew that it was never going to end unless I did something about it. I knew this- but emotionally, my eating disorder convinced me I wasn’t deserving of recovery. It’s why I endlessly documented body checks on my camera roll. I wanted to prove to my future self that I had done it- I DID reach my desired body, my goal weight. And then I could stop because I had proof of my hard work. But that’s the thing about addiction, about obsessions- I couldn’t stop. It never stops. Not unless you choose for it to stop.

I didn’t want to choose recovery. I wanted to be forced into recovery. I wanted to be given permission to stop self destructing. I wanted a medical professional to intervene and tell me I was dying- that I was dying because of my eating disorder. Instead of chasing a goal weight, I was now chasing differential diagnosis. I wanted to be sure of it before I did something about it. God forbid I was overreacting. That would only fuel my eating disorder further.

Unfortunately, clinically I wasn’t dying. I didn’t meet the BMI requirement for anorexia. An anorexic’s worst nightmare- being told you’re too fat for the diagnosis… Yes, my worst nightmare wasn’t the severe health complications, the strained relationships, my irreparably damaged relationship with food, or even death- it was the voice of my eating disorder being vindicated by a medical professional. At the point I wanted to stop, my eating disorder wouldn’t let me because it was proven RIGHT. I was not sick enough… I must get sicker. Maybe then someone will listen. Maybe then my eating disorder would listen.

February-May were the longest 3 months of my life. I wanted to choose recovery so badly. However, as much as I wanted to choose recovery, the voice of my eating disorder wanted me to choose thin. Some days I would be able to listen to my heart, but most days I capitulated to my eating disorder. I felt so much shame in my failure to recover on my own, and even more shame that I wasn’t good enough at being anorexic for a diagnosis. I was at war in my mind, fighting a battle against myself and my eating disorder. Something needed to change.

When the semester ended, I decided to admit myself into a partial hospitalization program. I didn’t feel brave doing so. I mostly felt embarrassed. Did I even deserve to be there? The voice of my eating disorder didn’t seem to think so. But I went anyway.

My 6 weeks in treatment are the reason I am still in recovery today. I learned there that my labs were abnormal, my magnesium levels were off the charts from my laxative abuse. And my heart rate and blood pressure were routinely low. Knowing that information contradicted the voice of my eating disorder. Perhaps I was sick enough. 

Still, that wasn’t the reason I chose recovery. I chose recovery because of my peers in treatment with me. It was the first time I experienced such radical honesty. I had become so accustomed to lying to myself and my loved ones, I had lost touch with the truth. My peers in treatment made me feel safe and seen in a way I never had before. While being around them and hearing their stories could be triggering at times, the sense of community and belonging I felt with them superseded all else. It was as if we were all reflections of each other, just with different versions of the same illness at different stages.

Oddly, what comforted me the most was learning that relapse could happen after years, even decades of strong recovery. If it could happen again, even in the strongest of recoveries, that means it can’t be a moral failing. Eating disorders are diseases as much as they are addictions or obsessions. The only power we have is in our choices, in how resilient we are under the circumstances, in how we pick ourselves back up- and not being afraid to ask for help.

To be continued...

If you or a loved one is suffering from an eating disorder, there is help and there is hope. https://anad.org/eating-disorder-helpline/