Dear Bee,
I know I just posted a few hours ago, but it’s amazing what a few deep breaths, group support, and talking to myself in the car (it’s only considered insane if I hear voices talking back, right?) can do. In other words, I’m back and my motivation to recover, heal myself, and grow, grow, GROW is back.
This weekend highlighted just how vicious my eating disorder can be. It also demonstrated that I am still very stuck in my rigid cognitive distortions (all-or-nothing thinking; issues of perceived control, etc.) That’s a bummer, yes, but I firmly believe I can learn from this experience. No “poor me” anymore.
I know that I have to be positive. I am a beautiful person inside and out, and there is so much GOOD in my life and so MANY incredible reasons to live. I refuse to hide under a blanket of fear and worry. I refuse to feel hopeless when I have so much hope for recovery.
This is not me saying I will never make a mistake again. This is not me saying today was the last time. If I had a dime for every time I said that, well…I’d be living in a very nice mansion.
I know now that recovery is about day by day, minute by minute, breath by breath. And for this day (for what’s left of it), I am choosing to love myself. For this minute, I am choosing recovery. For this breath, I am appreciating all that my body gives to me, and I am choosing to nourish and appreciate it with my love and adoration.
I just did something so scary. I announced you on Facebook. I know. I made our relationship public. Look who’s in charge now. Our secret is OUT, and it feels GREAT.
This is what I posted:
In lieu of National Eating Disorder Awareness week, I want to share this: Everybody knows somebody, and if you think you do not, if you know me, then you do know somebody. I developed an eating disorder in high school and believed I was broken, selfish, and awful because of it. Ashamed of what others would think, I kept it my dirty little secret. Only in my journey towards recovery did I learn the strength behind admitting weakness and seeking support. Eating disorders are mental illnesses; they are NOT choices, NOT diets, and NOT simply a matter of willpower. Statistics are high; recovery is low. The stigmatization and ignorance is devastating. Anorexia kills more people than any other psychiatric disorder. What does it take to stop glamorizing this sickness? Eating disorders come in all shapes and sizes and the deadliest symptom is silence. Today, I am grateful for my experiences because they brought me to where I am today, to a place of humbled gratitude and into a career path where I can guide others through their difficulties. If anyone is reading this who may be struggling, I urge you to seek help. You absolutely deserve it. And if anyone wants to judge me, go for it. I have the incredible love from others and from myself to keep me strong and balanced:)
Ask me a year ago if I would have done this, and I would have laughed. Loudly. My eating disorder was MY secret and nobody else could possibly understand it, or so I thought.
Strength comes when we venture out of our comfort zones, and this was me definitely tearing down a wall I had built around myself. How will people respond? At this point, I can honestly say: I don’t care. Even though I’ve already received some of it, I’m not looking for attention or compliments. I’m not looking for controversy or praise.
I’m looking to spread awareness. In exposing one of my deepest secrets, I seek to restore my health and show others who may be struggling that they are never alone in their isolating battles. The stigmatization behind eating disorders is astounding. Whose fault is it?
We can blame our media or celebrities or doctors or public education system, but does it really matter? We need to stop focusing on why there is so much ignorance surrounding mental illness, and rather, focus on how we can change that.
I live for the day where one can say, I can’t make it because I have a therapy appointment the same way one can say, I can’t make it because I have a doctor appointment.
I live for the day when we stop telling someone with anorexia that they need to eat a little more, stop telling someone with bulimia that they just shouldn’t throw up, stop telling someone with depression that they just need to cheer up, or stop telling someone with anxiety that they need to relax.
We blame people for having mental illnesses. Do we blame people for having cancer?
I live for a world where we finally realize that mental and physical illness are intertwined, that one cannot live without the other, that prevention and treatment are just as important for each, that people are more than their diagnoses and more than their limitations.
