In honor of NEDA (National Eating Disorder Awareness) week which is coming to an end, and self harm awareness day, which is tomorrow (March 1st, don’t forget to wear orange) I just wanted to post this. Through the recovery of my battle with Bulimia Nervosa, I’ve learned a lot.
I’ve learned that eating can be really, really difficult.
I’ve learned that my body is beautiful, no matter what shape or size it is.
I’ve learned that I can be healthy and happy, even though it may take a while for it to happen.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to go back for seconds, or treat myself to a piece of cake.
But most of all, I’ve learned that my body is a temple.
My body is a temple, but it doesn’t define me.
I’m learning to treat myself with respect and honor, just like I would treat any friend.
An estimate 8 million people are struggling with an eating disorder today. That’s 8 million too many. If you know someone who is struggling with an eating disorder, or if you yourself are, please know that there is hope.
There are people out there who want to and can help you, but it’s up to you to take the first step.
For more information on eating disorders and how to get help, visit the National Eating Disorder Association’s website at http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/
or call the help-line at: 1-800-931-2237
In honor of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week…..
Exactly a year ago on February 20th, 2013 I was admitted into Mercy hospital’s Eating Disorder Program to get treatment for anorexia nervosa. I remember everything about that day- What I wore, how I was feeling, how my parents were feeling, the seat I chose when I entered the program., and so fourth I remember thinking that my life was over, they were just going to fatten me up and I’d just want to be dead for the rest of my life because I would feel too ugly and chubby for society. I used to think food was the enemy- It wasn’t something that kept me alive and energized but just made me unhappy, fat, and ugly. Last year around this time all I wanted was for my parents to let me starve myself to death. The LAST thing I wanted was to be forced fed. I would look into the mirror and break down crying because I thought my legs were too fat, my stomach too chubby, my hips too wide, and so on. I couldn’t bring myself to even eat an apple for lunch because the thought of my jean size going up or the number on the scale increasing scared me so much. I didn’t believe that being admitted into the hospital was going to bring me a silver lining. Last year I was not living, but simply existing.
Looking back, I can’t believe I ever even thought that way. I now know food is not the enemy. It is what keeps me alive, happy, energized, full of life. I regret almost all the things I told my parents last year. I would scream and swear at that about how much I hated them and myself when I was made to eat. I can’t believe they never gave up on me, and I thank them for that. If it weren’t for them being such concerning and caring parents, I could be dead from being malnourished and so emaciated. Also, if it weren’t for my amazing, beautiful, and strong mother for giving up her job for six weeks to live with me in Portland, I may have not been here today. I now know recovery is worth it. Being social again, able to run miles upon miles, living and not just existing, having a happy and close family finally, not feeling hungry and angry (or as we like to call it, HANGRY) 24/7, and so on is so much better than giving into ED behaviors and being malnourished, emaciated, depressed, isolated, HANGRY, having hair clumps fall out, not being able to walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like I’m going to pass out, and so on. I am glad I am on the path to recovery, although I may be weight restored I am definitely not mentally restored. Everyday is still a battle- I still look in the mirror sometimes and want to break down crying because how fat I feel and look. I still question myself and mom almost everyday multiple times if “I’m fat”, “Do I look like I’ve gained weight?”, “Have I ate too much?”. But when I ask those questions or don’t like what I see in a mirror, I remind myself that this is my ED talking, not me. I am worth more than calories, numbers, and measurements. I want to thank everyone who has supported me on my on going recovery journey. And to anyone that is struggling, seek help. Talk to a teacher, friend, family member, doctor, ANYONE! You are not weak or a failure for reaching out, you are a strong and brave person. I want every guy and girl to know, you are worth more than your body size, a diet, food you eat, and what have you. You are all beautiful, inside and out. Recovery is definitely a struggling process, BUT IT IS WORTH IT! I promise you that. And lastly, FUCK EATING DISORDERS!