In honor of National Eating Disorder Week, I wanted to share with you my recent experience with my eating disorder. I've struggled with an eating disorder since I was about 13 years old. With various mental health struggles hitting me hard with the start of quarantine and COVID-19, I decided to see a psychiatrist. I was given a new diagnosis (something I am not quite ready to delve into on here as I try to figure it out for myself), and new medication. This medication had a side effect of weight gain. I was hesitant to try it at first, knowing that I was still in recovery from my eating disorder and worried potential weight gain could trigger me. Still, I was desperate to sleep and stop oversleeping, to feel like my life had purpose again.
Within a few weeks, I'd noticed weight gain as my jeans started to get tighter. I shed a lot of tears and hated getting ready to go to work. At the same time, I was feeling emotionally lighter, ready to face the world in front of me. After careful consideration I decided to stay on this medication. For a long time I handled it all very well. I bought new jeans that fit me, I worked on changing my thought process as I'd been taught in therapy, and reminded myself each meal was fueling my beautiful body.
And then it became too much. I was overwhelmed and exhausted at how hard I was fighting. I was noticing changes I didn't enjoy. I looked at pictures of my past self and wished I looked how I was then. I was haunted by images of my body at my lowest weight, desperately wishing I could be that person again. I told myself it would be less effort to give in than to fight. So, I did just that.
I won't go into detail, but I did exactly what I used to do when I was 13. Recently, I've been trying to get it back under control again, recognizing how tired my body was getting, and how hard it was to keep my mind focused. It helped that I was moving back home, where a better variety of food would be available, and those "secret" behaviors would be harder to hide.
It hasn't been easy. In what is considered relapse, I've become obsessed with how I look, feeling guilty whenever I eat, and I've been forcing myself to not spend two hours at the gym just to burn calories. I've been justifying hunger. The list could go on with my yellow and red flags that I’ve been giving in to. Though it’s been hard and some days go better than others, it’s not the end.
Within a few weeks, I'd noticed weight gain as my jeans started to get tighter. I shed a lot of tears and hated getting ready to go to work. At the same time, I was feeling emotionally lighter, ready to face the world in front of me. After careful consideration I decided to stay on this medication. For a long time I handled it all very well. I bought new jeans that fit me, I worked on changing my thought process as I'd been taught in therapy, and reminded myself each meal was fueling my beautiful body.
And then it became too much. I was overwhelmed and exhausted at how hard I was fighting. I was noticing changes I didn't enjoy. I looked at pictures of my past self and wished I looked how I was then. I was haunted by images of my body at my lowest weight, desperately wishing I could be that person again. I told myself it would be less effort to give in than to fight. So, I did just that.
I won't go into detail, but I did exactly what I used to do when I was 13. Recently, I've been trying to get it back under control again, recognizing how tired my body was getting, and how hard it was to keep my mind focused. It helped that I was moving back home, where a better variety of food would be available, and those "secret" behaviors would be harder to hide.
It hasn't been easy. In what is considered relapse, I've become obsessed with how I look, feeling guilty whenever I eat, and I've been forcing myself to not spend two hours at the gym just to burn calories. I've been justifying hunger. The list could go on with my yellow and red flags that I’ve been giving in to. Though it’s been hard and some days go better than others, it’s not the end.
To continue to fight this battle, I attended an online relapse prevention support group the other day. It was fantastic, and comforting in a way to know that I am not the only one who struggles with an eating disorder. I learned a lot, especially in being reminded that recovery is never linear. I wrote about that in a previous post, primarily regarding my OCD. It stands true for anything. It's easy to get discouraged. It's been easy for me to shame myself into thinking I'm a failure and will never get better, but I can. And I will. It's incredibly hard. Even as I write this I struggle to eat a small snack to keep me going, but it's so worth it to keep pushing. Every small step forward is a victory, and, when we slip up, it's not like we have to lose all hope. We can still try. We have endless opportunities! And, all along the way we are learning. That was another big thing I learned from this support group. If recovery was easy, what would I really learn? Through relapse and recovery, I’ve been able to find a lot of growth in myself.
I’m taking it one day at a time, often one meal at a time, reminding myself that food is nourishment, something important, and not the enemy. The voices are hard to push through, but my body is deserving. This is me, owning my story, sharing vulnerability, to once again, help you know you are not alone. I hope this helps someone.
Here's my quote for today:
---Maggie
PS: Here is a fantastic resource for you or someone you know who is struggling with disordered eating/body image issues. If not, learn more! Educate yourself and be an advocate. We need more people on our side. :)
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