Breaking Up is Hard to do

Relationships are difficult, particularly destructive ones. I've been in a pretty long relationship with ED, but after 5 years of horror, I decided that we needed to break up. ED didn't take it very well. Even though I broke up with my eating disorder, it hasn't broken up with me. It still tries to tag along, no matter where I go.

I recently told my therapist that I feel as though ED is right on my heels. If I ease up or lose my momentum for just one second, ED will snatch me up in his sharp talons. I've felt ED's presence very strongly for the past few weeks. From the calorie-counting and the persistent body-checking, to the body-bashing and guilt about dessert, I know it has all been my eating disorder. So I think it's time to remember the reasons why I left ED:

1. I have much better things to do than fight with my body.
2. Self-hate just isn't OK; at any size.
3. My body has been given to me by God. It's about time I started appreciating this gift.
4. Food is good, no matter how much ED tries to tell me otherwise.
5. Without ED, I am free to discover who Kaitlin really is.

There are many more reasons why life is worth so much more than my eating disorder. ED may be tricky, but I can recognize thoughts and behaviors that are only going to lead me towards self-destruction. The path to recovery is verrrrry long, and I may currently be going through a tunnel. I've had some pretty scary thoughts and urges. On Friday I even half-acted on those urges. This alarmed two of my supports.

The idea of going back into treatment was discussed. So, I may do an intake assessment just to see what they say. Right now, my main problem is that I don't have the stamina to fight off my eating disorder, and I have such a tiny support system that it is really hard to progress. When I told some people about my lapse (and fear of it becoming a full-blown relapse,) they just shook their heads and ignored it.

Just the thought of going back to treatment is enough to make me kick it into high gear and try my very hardest. I will slam the door in ED's face and fight with all of my strength every day if I have to, because I know that going back is just not worth it.

I had some major slip-ups the past couple of weeks. It's time to stand up yet again and do this. Just keep going! Here are some things I remember to keep pushing forward:

1. I reunited with a friend this weekend and had a great lunch. Fabulous progress!
2. I am loved based on my character; not my body.
3. The more I restrict, the more my body will go all wonky once I wise up and actually start fueling my body again. Why not just bypass that horror and nourish myself now?
4. People are noticing my healthy glow, or as my mom says my "bump in the back." I have a butt now!
5. Jennifer Lawrence. I rave about her so much, it's probably a bit creepy and annoying, but oh my gosh, she's so HOT and she DOESN'T have abs nor does she wear a size zero!

Creepiness over; fighter face on!

The Calorie-Counting Conundrum

I am in recovery from anorexia. Counting calories seems a bit of a bad idea, no? This is how messed up this disorder is. My brain goes against rational thinking and fills my head with stupid fluff. I need to get that stuff out of my head and fill it with positivity, because I am recovering; I AM DOING THIS! 

I have counted calories on several occasions since I've left treatment. It concerns some people close to me who think this is a bad idea, and you know what? They're probably right. I've got enough anxiety as it is; do I really want to painstakingly calculate the calories, fat, protein, etc. in everything I'm eating? No! My goal has always been to have normalized eating, and "normal" people don't count everything they eat. Some people are fine with counting calories. All I know is that this habit is a destructive one for me, and I just don't need that right now - or ever! 

In treatment, they had us counting "exchanges," which would be your starches, fats, proteins, dairy products, fruits, and vegetables. I would be required to eat so many fat exchanges and starch exchanges and fruit exchanges. This habit gave me a bit of anxiety...if I were eating out or at someone's house, I'd feel weird or as if I were skimping if I didn't get the set number of exchanges I was supposed to get. I also got fed up with fitting so many exchanges into my daily eating. So once I left treatment, I decided that counting exchanges was not good for me either.

I'm not counting calories. I'm not counting exchanges. Ah! Now what?

I have a quote on my bathroom mirror: "Eating is not a crime. It's normal. It just is." 

It just is! We are all different; my eating habits and dietary needs are going to be different from yours, and from my boyfriend's, and from my friends' from treatment. As long as I am eating a variety of colorful foods each day, I am good! The re-feeding process and getting weight restored has been extremely difficult, but look at how far I've come! My weight has been steady (and healthy) for about two weeks now, and I have not been counting my calories, nor my exchanges. Our bodies are incredible things; they know what we need and what we don't. It's about time I started listening to my body, not my disorder.

Anxiety

Anxiety. It seemed to be the hot topic of the various conversations I've had today. What is anxiety? Well, basically anxiety is the feeling of stress and alertness people feel after the stressing event or situation has passed. Pay attention: after the stressor has passed. So, even though the stressful thing is over and done with, anxiety continues to loom over your head and rain down big drops of worry. Sound familiar? It does for me!

I do believe that I am getting much better at handling my anxiety. Constant worrying has been a complement to my eating disorder, but I've always been a worrier. It might always be my instinct to fret about something, but I am doing a good job of recognizing what needs to be worried about and what is simply out of my control.

Take this afternoon, for example. My boyfriend asked me to hang out, but I honestly felt like I just needed to be alone. I wasn't feeling social, and that's fine! He was totally cool with it, and told me to just take some space for myself. Yet, I couldn't let it go! I was anxious:

Oh my gosh, he's going to think I'm so selfish. I'm so selfish! I can't even go hang out with my boyfriend when he wants to see me. Selfish! 

Fortunately, I was able to use a strategy I learned in treatment. Thought challenging! I love this coping skill. I simply take the feeling that I have, and challenge it with reality.

Thought/feeling: I'm selfish.                    
Reality: I am not selfish for needing to spend some time alone.

Thought/feeling: My boyfriend will be angry.
Reality: He told me it was okay to be alone!

I feel better already. Nothing is wrong with taking some time for yourself (this applies to everyone!) Besides, I've decided that life is way too short for me to be at war with my body, myself, or with anyone else for that matter.

Tonight I am spending some time alone. I am going to make an awesome dinner for myself, take a walk, and curl up with a book. Might even throw some dessert in there. :)

                                                                   

The Comparison Game - Why We Will Always Lose!

Ah, comparisons. With Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and other social-media stuff I don't know about, there are so many ways to compare ourselves to others. Huge billboards portray gorgeous men and women who seem to come from the land of flawless bodies and stunning faces. Comparisons are all around us, and cover all facets of our lives: beauty, possessions, status, jobs, money, etc.

Comparisons played a huge part in my eating disorder, and continue to plague me in recovery. I've compared myself to the most ridiculous things: animated characters, models, classmates, strangers, my boyfriend, my peers, children, other patients...I've compared my bank account, my own recovery, my weight, my hair, my face, my clothing, my faith, my art, my writing, my college degree, my job status, my skills, my voice, and more.

I catch myself time and again making stupid comparisons. That's when I read some truth. God does not compare us; we are all uniquely made and have different gifts and abilities. Am I going to compare myself to the twisted reality of this society? Or am I going to renew my mind and realize that I am enough.

You are enough.

It's an awesome thing to finally comprehend. Yet I know it is not always easy. I still fall down and need to pick myself up (or, more often than not, have someone else pick me up!) When my younger sister buys her first car and snags an internship, or someone I know pays off their student loans, or I give in to another ED thought and let it waste my valuable time and energy...I remember that I am enough.

Don't get me wrong; comparisons can be a good thing if we use them in a healthy manner. For example, if I compare myself now to the person I was one year ago, I can see huge improvement: I'm at a healthy weight; I have a loving boyfriend; I'm writing daily; I'm doing more art; I'm in recovery (that's a really good one!)

So maybe instead of comparing myself to other people, I can compare myself to ... well, myself. Look at how far I've come! I'm sure you've come pretty far yourself. I can't wait to see how I'll keep moving forward in the future.

Meat Cravings?

I have been a vegetarian for five and a half years. It started at the beginning of college because let's be honest: college dining hall food is questionable, especially the meat! I had a lot of reasons for my vegetarianism:

-it can be more environmentally friendly
-it can be cheaper for my food budget
-it can be healthier for my body
-it can be better for the animals

Of course, all of these reasons depend on a lot of different factors. Vegetarians are not always healthier than meat-eaters, and there are plenty of vegetarians who still spend a lot of money on other foods (unhealthy or healthy.)

Thinking back on when I became a vegetarian, I do believe an underlying reason for my decision was dictated by ED. I was at the height of my anorexia, and eliminating meat was another food group I just didn't need to worry about. Being a vegetarian was socially acceptable, and I could cut out a lot of calories by not eating meat.

Fast forward five years, and I have become a much healthier vegetarian. I get my protein from a variety of sources, including lots of eggs, dairy products, beans, nuts, seeds, and hummus. I actually have not really had the urge to go back to meat. At the same time, I do not feel any malice towards meat-eaters. All of my friends eat meat, and I now buy meat for my boyfriend when we cook together.

Yet, something strange has happened these past two days.

I HAVE BEEN CRAVING MEAT.

What is this?!?!?! I want to delight in some sushi, and the commercials I'm seeing for popcorn chicken and burgers look strangely tempting. I am so confused!

Now that I am eating a variety of foods, is my body finally "waking up"? It is getting nutrients after five years of starvation. Is the next step in my recovery to eat meat?

I just don't know if I am ready for that yet, but it is something to keep in mind. Time will tell if the vegetarian lifestyle continues to meet my needs, or if I will go over to the dark side. Is that why the chicken crossed the road? Hehehehehehehe!

Orthorexic Urges...and Opposing Them!

I classify myself not only as a recovering anorexic, but also an orthorexic. Someone with orthorexia has an extreme obsession with avoiding foods deemed "unhealthy." I'm that person who painstakingly examines the nutrition and ingredient labels of everything I buy in the grocery store. Today I went to the supermarket with my boyfriend, and I was reminded that I still have some work to do in this department. So I challenged myself by adding to my shopping cart a loaf of bread and some ice cream I wouldn't normally purchase.

Lately, I've been doing a good job of challenging my eating disordered behaviors. This week, I've eaten some foods that a couple of years ago would have resulted in extreme guilt, anger, frustration, and fear. As strange as it is, giving in to ED behaviors makes me feel in control (even though in the back of my mind I know ED is controlling me.) Well, I am happy to say that not only did I eat "new" foods this week, but I am alive! I am not bloated, gross, fat, nor do I feel out of control. Even eating a food that was a bit scary (it was a previous binge food) was a great success.

I am on my way to eating "normally!" I am using quotes because is there really a normal? I'm not sure. What I do know is that disordered eating is not okay, and I intend to continue moving away from ED.

I spoke a lot with my therapist and boyfriend today and explored how ED makes the simple act of eating so difficult. Eating is meant to be an enjoyable experience, not a stressful one! Not to mention, it's totally necessary in order to live life to the fullest. How sad that ED has robbed me of the joys of enjoying meals. Little by little, I feel less of a need to look over my shoulder to see ED lurking in the corner. It's such a great feeling.

I've had dessert every night this week. For dinner, I had instant ramen, which I have not eaten in YEARS. I thoroughly enjoyed these meals and I am considering this a huge step in my recovery. Even better, my body image has not been affected by these actions. I still see me and my real body, not some funhouse-mirror-style Kaitlin who is huge. This is progress!

Of course, there is still work to be done, but if I take baby steps and do something each day, then that is great. My friend used an analogy of carrying a backpack full of bricks, with the bricks representing our burdens (ED or otherwise.) Each day, try to take out a brick and lift it up to God. You can't take all of the bricks out in one day, but if you can empty the backpack little by little, you are moving forward.

This week, I've taken some very heavy bricks out of my backpack.

Accepting Yourself

With my recent physical ailments, it makes me wonder if the new changes in my eating patterns are to blame. How many of my physical problems are related to ED and how many are just "normal?" What about my intellectual and emotional challenges? The mood swings; the waves of depression, anxiety, and hopelessness; the tummy issues; trouble doing things that used to come naturally. I certainly feel more stupid than I did in high school. I can no longer multitask. Is that a side effect of ED? Or life? Or a little bit of both?

Recently, I spoke with my boyfriend about a project we want to work on together. It's his big dream; it is very important to him and he trusts me enough to help him with the writing for it. I want to do it, I really do. Yet, it seems that every time we talk about it or brainstorm, I get overwhelmed, scared, and frustrated. I hear those ugly voices in my head again - "not good enough;" "you'll mess the project up;" "stupid!;" "you're a waste of time." 

These thoughts keep me back from really helping. I realize that all they do is fuel that absurd belief in the back of my mind that there is something wrong with me.

Lies!

I need to move past these thoughts. Just as I nourish my body with food so I can be strong and healthy, I need to start putting positive thoughts and ideas into my head.

I don't know the full extent of how screwed up ED has made me. It makes me sad when people think that ED is primarily a physical thing. It strikes its victims on so many levels: I get stomachaches from just a hint of spice; I need to refeed my body so my stomach can handle more than a handful of food at one time; my mind gets foggy if I need to do two things at once; I need to turn off the television or radio if I'm talking to someone; expressing my ideas is harder than it used to be; I need to drink a supplemental drink because I just can't get all my nutrients from food right now; my emotions are stabilizing but I still have days where I'm up and down several times; I haven't felt like a woman in 5 years (if you know what I mean); I get shortness of breath from the worry and who knows what else.

In spite of all that, I need to live with the consequences of starving my body for five years. I was sick for a long time; I will not get "better" after a 6-week treatment program, and I may have to live with ED thoughts and urges for the rest of my life. I can let that get to me and I can throw in the towel right now...or I can accept this life because it's mine and I can CONTINUE

                                                                     MOVING

                                                                             FORWARD.

One Less Trigger?

As I was watching a movie on TV with my boyfriend the other night, I realized how our culture tries to make us feel like crap. Really! In a three-minute block of commercials, we watched as companies tried to sell us makeup, a sports car, and hair products that would make us desirable and happier. Ugh.

I'm so glad I am no longer pulled in by those ads and commercials. Stick-thin women and muscular men, both wearing half their weight in makeup and/or extremely photoshopped...this kind of thing used to make me feel as though I wasn't good enough. Now I simply roll my eyes or even laugh.

When the movie we were watching came back on, I was relieved. We were actually watching The Hunger Games, and I gushed over Jennifer Lawrence. Pretty sure she's my girl-crush. Here is a young woman with a body that is feminine and natural-looking and BEAUTIFUL! Even Josh Hutcherson is hot in his stocky, not-so-tall way.

When asked why she didn't get teeny-tiny for her role in The Hunger Games (watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3HU7e1XrYA), Jennifer Lawrence said that her character is someone that little girls look up to and want to emulate. She didn't want to look like an emaciated walking stick.

YESSSSSSSSSSS

The media isn't totally to blame for eating disorders; I know that. However, all the hype about celebrity diets, exercise routines, and being thin, thin, thin certainly don't help fuel positive body image - for anyone.

Thankfully, I've learned to break free from the grip that the media had on me, and I now surround myself with body positivity. That doesn't mean I don't have poor body image days, but I now know that I want a strong, healthy body; one that can eat a cookie or a salad;  run a mile or laze around on the couch. A strong, healthy body that can help me live life to the fullest.

One-Size-Fits-None

I spend way too much energy on comparisons.

She's pretty...am I pretty?*

Am I eating more than him? Less? The same amount? Am I eating more fats than him? What about carbs?**

Her job is so much better than mine; why does everyone have their life together but me?!***

Just as I wrote in a previous post that recovery isn't linear, it isn't one-size-fits-all either! Everyone's path is different; just as everyone's body type is unique and everyone's got their own kind of beauty - inside and out.

Instead of comparing my looks, meals, and recovery to others, I'm acknowledging that we're all different. ED aside, I think every person has their own gifts and uniqueness. I don't want to be like anyone else, I want to be Kaitlin!

Even though recovery is long and bumpy, this post is short and sweet. Be your own kind of beautiful, because God made you and He doesn't make mistakes!


*Yes, I am pretty. **Who cares? Your body has specific needs at this point and there is nothing wrong with that. ***Nobody has it all together. And that's okay.

Recovery Isn't Linear

I'm worried about myself.

Lately, it just seems that recovery has been getting more and more difficult. I was on such a great path, and things just feel as if they are spinning out of control.

I mentioned in my last post that my weight has dropped a bit. I felt good with what I was doing with food. And then I saw that stupid number, and saw that I lost some weight. Why can't I just eat like it's no big deal? Why does it have to be this big scary thing; this obstacle that I have to overcome? I feel as though other people can just eat and be and not have to worry about weight. Why does it have to be so hard for me?

I feel as though I am already struggling to eat what I'm eating daily. The thought of pushing that up to get my weight back to where it was seems so daunting. Sure, it's only a little bit that I lost, but gaining that back looks like such a struggle. So much work. I don't want to increase my eating. I really don't.

I'm worried because I want to get that number up, but I don't want to do the work it takes to do that. I can't find it in myself to increase my meal plan; I really just have meal plan fatigue. I want to be able to eat and not worry about it.

I had a moment tonight where I was "afraid" of a food. Okay, it was an oreo cookie. Harmless, right? Why couldn't I just eat the oreo? I want an oreo, I can eat the oreo. I was afraid. I voiced this concern to someone and they convinced me to eat the cookie. Just one. Nothing happened. I didn't die. I didn't feel bad about it. But I do feel "safe" for having just one. I have a scary history with these cookies; it's a bit frightening to approach them again.

Does any of this make sense? It hardly makes sense to me. I hate this disorder! It makes me feel crazy. I'm afraid of a cookie? Really?!

Tonight has shown me that recovery is not linear, and right now I feel like I am sliding down a slippery, steep slope. I'm really glad I have therapy tomorrow. I'm worried. I'm so close to stepping into ED-territory, and it's freaking me out.

I just read over what I wrote. I need to take a step back. One day at a time. I made it through today. I will make it through tomorrow. And the day after that. I don't really know how to end this post, but I don't know what the solution is right now. Clearly, I have so much recovery ahead of me. I suppose this post is more writing therapy than anything else, but it feels good to just get it out.

This disorder is so much more than food. If you know someone who is struggling, or if you struggle with ED, know that this is not your fault. There will be so many people who don't understand. It's even hard for those with ED to understand. So take it one day at a time, because even though right now is suckish for me, I know that I've been in a better place. And I can get there again.

Difficult Recovery Days

I feel diseased.

I'm sitting at the bottom of a well where the only echoes I hear scream “not good enough” and “not worth it.” But I know I'm worthy of recovery. I place my hands over my ears. I still hear the voices. Gosh, they're so loud. When will they stop? When? I'm tired, please.

Please.

Some days are so, so hard. Anxiety builds up in my chest until I can barely breathe. I feel shaky; I long to go to bed. Worries rush through my mind like rapids: you have no money; you didn't gain any skills in college; look at all these jobs you are unqualified for!

You're too weak for life.

My weight went down this week. I believe this is because I've been more active; my eating hasn't really changed. I saw my weight and my first thought was Oh, I need to get that up a bit. I was proud of myself for not delighting in the fact that I lost weight. I don't need to lose weight.

Let me repeat that: I do not need to lose weight. I. DO. NOT. NEED. TO. LOSE. WEIGHT.

Whittling away to nothing will not solve my problems. For some reason, I have been afflicted with a disorder that makes me believe that if I just lose weight, I will be happy. If I just don't eat, that is success. If my body is perfect, then I am perfect.

I spent a lot of time today putting myself down. Hating myself. And it's only 1pm. I'm not going to give in to this. I am going to get up and move forward. It's Friday. I am going to use this weekend to relax. To forgive myself. Everyone else has, so why can't I extend some grace towards myself?

Some people around me seem to think that recovery is a matter of weight. I can be at the healthiest weight ever, but that does not mean I am recovered. The solution is not for me to eat more or to gain weight. There are so many roots to this problem that are fixed deep into the ground. I'm still digging into the soil and trying to get to these roots. It's not easy, but this is the way to recovery. Maybe before I rise up, I need to go down; down into the depths of myself.

In the past, I may have thought that making my outward appearance “perfect” was going to make my life wonderful. I know realize that the person I am does not depend on my looks, my body, my weight.

I feel diseased.

I'm sitting at the bottom of a well where the only echoes I hear scream “not good enough” and “not worth it.” But I know I'm worthy of recovery. I place my hands over my ears. I still hear the voices. Gosh, they're so loud. When will they stop?

Maybe they never will stop entirely, but I am not just going to sit here and let them wash over me. Today was a hard day in recovery, but I'm alive. I'm here. I'm going to keep going.

Happy Birthday, Poppie

Today was my paternal grandfather's birthday. I always remember Poppie being lighthearted and fun to be with...I didn't spend nearly enough time with him. He died just when my eating disorder was getting really bad; I remember visiting him and shrugging off his comment that I was getting really skinny. I stood there, all skeletal, and told him I'd eat. And I continued down a path to self-destruction for another couple of years.

I had a lot of guilt about how both my grandparents passed away without seeing me embrace recovery. But I do believe that they are seeing me now, and they are happy to see me recovering. Instead of wallowing in guilt and self-pity, I am picking myself up. I am acknowledging that I have made mistakes in my past, but who hasn't? We are all forgiven.

A common trait in those struggling with ED is perfectionism and self-criticism. We beat ourselves up over the smallest things, and our all-or-nothing thinking becomes a huge monster. What a scary disorder; your own mind attacking you. Now, every time I have even the tiniest victory, I rejoice. I am doing this!

I don't really believe in dreams being some vast portal into the subconscious, but they sure are interesting, especially mine. I remember one specific dream a few years back. I was stressed out (of course!) and I had a dream in which Poppie drove up to my house in a big, shiny, aquamarine car. He was smiling and told me to hop in the car.

"I can't; I'm so busy...I have so much to do!"

He looked me in the eyes. "Kait, everything is going to be okay."

That's all I remember, but that dream has stayed with me for years. Who knows if it was anything at all, but I do send prayers up to Poppie and Grammie. I tell them I miss them, that I'm trying, that they're loved and I'm grateful for their love.

ED is a disorder that makes me sometimes feel as if nobody loves me or cares. How ridiculous! I immediately challenge those thoughts with what I know. I am loved. I am loved. I AM LOVED!

When recovery or just life seems like too much to handle, I remember that an all-or-nothing approach is only going to destroy me. I had never seen Poppie let anything get him down. Now it's my turn to be brave and fight.

Happy birthday, Pop! <3

Good and Bad

I'm working in the kitchen, and I glance at a jar of pasta sauce. It tells me that this is a "Light" and "Smart" pasta sauce. It has less calories, less fat, less salt. Yay?

I'm so sick of life telling me what is good and bad for me. I'm especially sick of trying NOT to be sick in this society where wacko images and statements are thrown at us all the time. Do this; it's healthy. Don't eat that; it's bad for you. If you do this three times a week, you will be a superstar. You will be thin, and when you are thin you are happy, and everyone wants to be your best friend.

Screw that! 

I finally got so sick and tired of being so sick and tired. 

Thin DOES NOT EQUAL happy.

I wrote about positive affirmations last night. One of the notes on my bathroom mirror says "Self-hate is not okay at any size." This is so true. There is no size that equates with happiness. I am no longer going to determine my mood and self-worth based on stupid things such as the size of my jeans, the number on a scale, or the amount of calories I ate that day. Recovering from ED is difficult in a society that is constantly telling us we will be more content if we just lose a few pounds, or eat a salad instead of a slice of cake.

In treatment, I had to face a lot of "challenge foods." One of the realizations I had during treatment was that I was giving food so much power. Why couldn't I see that I was the one with the power, not food!? I remember a memorable evening in treatment when I went into the dining room and there sat waiting for me, my dinner. And a cookie. 

A cookie?!?!?! *cue panic attack*

My initial feeling: anxiety. I can't eat that cookie; I'll gain weight! (Yes, I had this thought while getting treated in an eating disorder clinic. ED screws you up.) 

Second feeling: anger. This wasn't planned! If I had known I was going to be required to eat a cookie tonight, I would have planned my day differently; I would have eaten veggies all day to make up for that cookie. Gosh, I already had peanut butter today; I'm going to eat too much fat. Damn that cookie!

How exhausting! Realizing that I was giving so much power to that cookie, I cleared my mind, I said "F*ck you, ED," and I ate that cookie. And you know what? I didn't die!

Immediately after dinner, we had group therapy. I was so proud of myself. I ate that dessert, and I didn't feel bad about it! I had the epiphany that it was simply a cookie, and I looked at it from a completely detached point of view. It was a starch for my body; it was some fat that my body needs. I ate one cookie, and it was going to be okay! 

I realize this may sound so ridiculous to people not suffering from ED, but this is something that people with an eating disorder deal with on a daily basis. Eating that cookie (and not hating myself for doing it) gave me a new kind of strength that still makes me feel happy.

So whenever the television or the newspaper or the radio or a billboard tries to tell me that if I eat this and not that; do this and not that; drink this and not that...I turn my head and I continue moving forward. I have adopted the mantra that I will not starve and deprive my body ever again. Some days are more difficult than others, but guess what? I'm still alive, and there's a reason for that! Now it's less about surviving and more about thriving.

I am working on this every day. At this stage in my recovery, there are still times when ED's voice is so, so loud. But there are other times where I eat without a single ED thought, or I feel like having a treat, and I do. And that's so liberating.

Kicking ED's butt! 

Positive Affirmations

One of the things I really liked about the treatment center I was at for anorexia was that the bathroom mirror was covered in positive affirmations. Post-It notes of different colors were scattered across the surface, stating things such as "You are beautiful" and "Be yourself. Everyone else is taken." I even added my own tidbit to the collection, from Psalm 139:14 "I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

As corny as this sounds, those positive affirmations helped so much. Typically I would go into a bathroom, and spend a few minutes body-checking. This is a ritual in which I examine different parts of my body. Is my belly too big? Why can't it be flat? Do I have love handles? And when did my thighs get so big? This ritual is a great way to make yourself feel like crap, as well as waste time that could be spent living and enjoying life. Add to that the fact that I have an extremely distorted body image, and...you get the idea.

So when I walked into that bathroom for the first time and saw all those Post-It notes, I was forced to let go of that body-checking ritual, at least for a little while. Instead of scrutinizing my body (and seeing things that weren't even really there) I was reading positive notes left by current and former treatment patients. It was a powerful thing!

Once I left treatment, I had the plan to completely cover my own bathroom mirror with positivity. In reality, I had to remember that this was not my own bathroom, nor was it in a treatment center. I didn't want to totally bombard my family, so I settled for creating a border of notes around the very large, rectangular bathroom mirror. Here are some of my favorite positive affirmations:

Eating is not a crime. It's normal. It just is.

Count your blessing - not the calories. Weigh your options - not your self-worth. Starve your self-hatred - not your body. Hate the disorder - not yourself.

This is a body hate-free zone. Every body is celebrated and loved here.

Don't be sad because sad spelled backwards is "das" and das not good! 

Having these daily reminders each day is one of the healthy coping skills I have adopted. I don't care if I have to cover my entire house with these things.

Not Alone

"I just don't want anyone else to die from this."

Kind of intense, I know, but this was what I said to my boyfriend tonight as I was thinking about my own recovery from an eating disorder. After an incredibly awesome weekend, Sunday night came and ED* showed up. Food suddenly became this big bad thing; I was frightened. I was even shaking a little. 

Why was it so hard to eat? Why was I afraid to? And why was this happening after I just had an amazing weekend free of symptoms? I was ravenous. My boyfriend and I made some wraps and I gobbled mine up. It tasted like the most delicious thing on earth. I finished and sat, thinking. "Why was I so hungry?!" I was angry about it! 

Thank God I have Matthew to talk sense into me when ED decides to pay a visit. Assuring me that being hungry is totally normal and that my body is ready to be nourished again, he calmed me down a bit. Yet, I still felt so distressed by this feeling. I sat for a good five minutes just staring at nothing, wondering whether I needed more to eat. 

There were two things running through my head: 1) eat another wrap and feel "fat," or 2) restrict myself and stop right here, and feel good. The recovering part of me knows that neither of these thoughts is healthy. My boyfriend suggested we split a wrap, but I decided not to. My reasoning? I'd rather stop here than eat half a wrap and feel like a total failure. I stood in the kitchen, trembling a little. This was scary, this was frustrating, this was insane! 

This was an eating disorder.

Fortunately, I am in the recovery stages, five weeks out of treatment, and after about 30 minutes, I was able to rationally look at the situation. As I held tight to my boyfriend, I admitted that I was scared. Why did ED all of a sudden show his ugly face? I told him he's not allowed here. I was angry. So much hard work in treatment; heck, I just went to therapy this afternoon and had a great session. I was mad that ED got the best of me in that moment. But I decided to focus on the positives:

1) I was hungry, yay! This is a HUGE thing for me. After so many years of starving myself, it is still extremely difficult to recognize (or even get) hunger cues. Right now, I stick to a meal plan that has me eating at specific times. The fact that I actually felt hungry is a wonderful thing, and is showing me that my body is regulating itself and is getting out of starvation mode.

2) I nourished my body. I recently adopted a mantra: "I will not starve and deprive my body." I ate a wrap; it had cheese and beans and veggies in it. That's a pretty nice, balanced meal that will fuel my body and provide it what it needs.

3) I reached out for help. Even though I was scared out of my mind, upset and frustrated, I didn't hold that in. 

This situation really made me think about ED and my recovery. Talking with my boyfriend about it, I started to tear up. I thought of all the people who have been lost because of this disorder; all of the young lives that have been ruined and taken away. I don't want that anymore. 

I decided right then and there that I was going to write this blog. If I can encourage just one person with this blog, with my story, then I will consider that a victory. Recovering from ED isn't easy; and I won't always have beautiful, flowery things to say about recovery. Today was a reminder that ED will constantly be trying to knock me down, but I've come so far already. I need to look at where I've been and where I am now. Just a few hours after battling a sticky situation, I am writing this blog and I feel more stable. I've also had my evening snack and finished my supplement, and I feel absolutely fine with that. I just provided my body with what it needs to write, to love, and to live. 

*I often personify my eating disorder, or ED. I know my eating disorder is not a person, or even a living thing. Yet, the personification often times makes it easier for using my coping skills, such as "shutting the door in ED's face."