How my mom supported me during recovery

"There are only four words that mean so much more than I love you, and those words are: I'm here for you." 

My mom was a prominent role in my recovery from my eating disorder and is a prominent role in my continuing battle against depression. 

When I first started showing signs of relapse with my eating disorder, everyone close to our family urged that my mom take action fast. They told her if anyone could, she would be the only one able to pull me out of the darkness, and away from my demons. 

No pressure, right?

My mom was all too familiar with my cycles of depression. I would become moody, withdraw from those around me, and slowly drop out of things that I loved to be a part of: I would stop writing entirely, have trouble getting up and ready for work, start skipping a class here and there, and so forth. 

When things got really bad, I started losing weight. Fast. 

Before the start of my last semester of university, school officials, and my doctors told my mom that in their professional opinion, it would be best for me to take a semester off from college. 

I was adamant that that would never happen. 

School is and has always been one thing that brought me immense pride. I love to learn. 

My mom went against what "professionals" were saying, because she knows her daughter. She knew that if I were forced to give up school, I would have nothing to fight for. School kept my mind occupied, and kept me from further withdrawing into my dark state of depression. 

With her help, I started my last semester of university, like I was supposed to. 

I was determined to prove the doctors and the professionals wrong, and show them that I was strong and well enough to finish out the semester. 

I would worry about treatment later. 

That plan worked out alright for approximately one month. After class one day I had 20 minutes to get to my next class across campus. I knew the strength in my body was declining, but viewed it as something that was frustrating rather than an actual problem. Halfway across campus, and five minutes late, I was covered in sweat, and breaking down in tears. 

I knew I wasn't well, but I was determined. I couldn't fathom the thought of giving up school. 

And then I thought of my mom. 

I thought of everything she put on the line for me, because she knew how important school was to me. 

And I kept walking. 

I made it through my next class, and had two hours to kill until the next. 

I walked up to my professors office, and broke down crying. 

"I can't go to class," I told her. "I need to go back to the hospital."

I told her everything, because I had previously skipped class, claiming that my stomach hurt and I needed to go home right away.

My professor was extremely encouraging and said that if I promised to drive myself to the hospital right then, that she would excuse me from class. 

I thought about driving home instead, and telling her that they didn't need to admit me. 

Then I thought about my mom. And I thought about how long it would take me to walk to my car. How I couldn't walk up five flights of stairs to get to my car. I was only 21. I thought about my heart and how I could barely feel it beating. I thought about my mom and how she tried to hide the fact that she was crying every time we hung up the phone. I thought about the fact that she told me she was scared that the last time she saw me would be the last time she would ever see me. 

I drove myself to the hospital.

And I was admitted right away. 

Not long after I was admitted into the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital, my mom drove four hours across state to be by my side. 

She had no choice. 

Due to the disorder, the doctors declared me unfit to make decisions that were in my own interest. 

I don't know if I will ever forgive myself for the first words I said to my mom after she made that drive. 

"Why are you here?" 

The part of my brain that was consumed by the eating disorder wanted her to leave. That part of my brain was trying to consume the part that was still healthy. The part of my brain that called my mom every morning to catch her up on the things that happened in the last 18 hours since we last spoke. That part of my brain had been working for years to take over and shrink me into nothing. That part of my brain knew that my mom would make decisions to make me well again, and that part of my brain was pissed. 

During the last year, my mom put her life on hold for many weeks to sit by my side in the hospital. 

During that time, she had to hear countless doctors tell her that if I were to be released right then, I would most likely die. They told her of the possible permanent damage I did to my heart and my liver. 

During that time my mom had to be a bystander to the disorder. She was by my side as I refused meal after meal, making up rules as to why I couldn't eat them, or why I couldn't drink this or that, and why I wouldn't take the medicine the doctors were bringing me. 

During that time, my mom kept her composure as I cried, I asked her to leave, or I refused to talk to her. 

Regardless of what I said, my mom was able to distinguish the part of my brain that was the disorder trying to take over, and the part of my brain that begged her to stay longer at the end of the day. And she came back to visit me in the hospital every day for six weeks. She brought me the newspaper, emails from professors and friends, and sat by my side, encouraging me to write, and forcing me to get out of bed and take walks, and wash my hair every day. 

My mom offered conversation as distraction during meal times, because she knew how stressed out it made me. She calmed my fears and talked me through them as I attempted to finish meals like I once did without hesitation. 

During this time, she tried never to let me see her cry. 

My mom came back day after day, regardless of what my mood was like, regardless if I didn't feel like talking, or if I was tired, and wanted to sleep during our entire visit. 

During this time, she had to help me do things a mom shouldn't have to help their 21 year old daughters do. 

She helped me stretch my legs when I couldn't hold them up on my own. She helped me walk laps up and down the hallway, as I worked to regain my strength, she helped me get in and out of the shower, standing close-by, just in case I fell. 

During this time, my mom still knew how important school was to me. She brought me my books, pens, and paper every day to work on my homework. 

At the end of the day, she would take home my work, type it up and mail it to my professors. 

We kept in contact like this throughout the semester, so we could ensure I would graduate on time. 

I made dean's list that semester. 

During this time, my mom never gave up on me. 

To this day, I know I can call my mom, and tell her my struggles and we will talk through them together. She lets me know to raise any red flags as soon as I can, if I feel myself sliding backwards, and she checks in with my sister. 

I am so grateful for my mom and her unwavering love and patience with me during this time. 

Why recovery is worth it [to me]

"You have the power to say 'this is not how my story is going to end.'"

I remember my first time in treatment for my eating disorder, during group therapy, one girl stated that she hated her eating disorder, because of all the things it stole from her, and stops her from doing.

In my extreme hunger, and delusional glory, I pondered this, and genuinely didn't have any idea what she meant.

For years, I believed I could have everything, and also have the comfort of my eating disorder, my coping mechanism, my confidante. I could have the comfort without the sacrifice.

The girl continued to tell us that she missed riding her horses, something she used to love to do before she got sick. Now, she was too weak and wouldn't be able to go riding until she completed treatment.

Her sentiment would again cross my mind briefly, leading me to make up a list of my own inspirations to get recovered:

[Going off the best of my memory, June 2016, here were my reasons:]

-to find a pair of jeans that fit!

-to be strong enough to return to boxing

-to bike, hike, walk and swim again

-to join intramural soccer

-to be able to enjoy meals with people: when a friend, guy, or professor asks me for lunch, I can say yes

-to continue to do the job that I love

-to get to go on dates

-not to be tired all of the time

-not to be cold all of the time

-get to go to concerts again

-go to the bar with my friends

-to finish school and graduate on time 

-for my mom 

*Looking back at my original list now, I see the majority of my motivations for getting well were so I can go back to sports and athletic activities. This was part of the reason so many doctors were interested in my case, because I have been an athlete my entire life, and I would total seven weeks in the hospital, with the strength of a senor citizen. Also, looking back now, not one of the reasons I had put down were centered around my own personal health or happiness. 

However, now, I can say with certainty that the list has changed, and I am grateful for more. The things I am able to do now, I do so mindfully, knowing that just over six months ago I would have never imagined doing these activities: 

-Walking across campus several times a day with ease

-Graduating a semester early AND walking across stage to receive my diploma

-Making the dean's list, while I completed my final semester of coursework from my hospital bed

-Moving to California

-Walking to the beach

-Joining a kickball league

-Going on weekend trips

-Going to spin class

-Working out when I feel like it, without overdoing it

-Eating when I feel like it, and what I feel like (within reason)

-Enjoying writing again and doing it on a regular basis

-Going out with groups of friends without anxiety

-Working with dogs for work, standing on my feet all day

There are many beautiful and inspiring reasons to recover, you just have to ask yourself what's your why? and you will find it. Commit to it. It's worth it. 

If you or someone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, visit www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/ to receive more resources.

How to deal with a relapse

"Part of recovery is relapse. I dust myself off and move forward again." 

One of the things that was hard for me to understand while I was in treatment for my eating disorder, is why we were learning tips similar to those given in AA.

"It's not helpful to me," I whined. "I don't have an addiction."

But, I do.

According to Karin Jasper, Ph.D., some professionals view anorexia as an addiction, because the sufferer has a 'dependence on starvation.' Both addictions are similar in the sense that there is often a "loss of control, preoccupation with the abused substance, and use of the substance."

In my case, and many others, this is absolutely true. Your disorder becomes your life: when and what you're going to eat, when you're going to move, how and for how long, where you're going to eat and where you're not.

A typical day for me looked like this:

Wake up at 7-7:30 a.m., lay in bed for 30 minutes to 45 minutes, if I was feeling a little ambitious and a little less depressed, I may practice some self-care by coloring before venturing into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. This was the same meal every day, without fail, regardless of how much time I did or did not have, because familiarity blocked out anxiety. I would either leave for school or work around 9 a.m., to get there by 10. This was the saddest part for me, because once I got there, I had trouble walking.

If I was at school, I parked in the parking garage, and only had to make it to the elevator down two floors, and around the corner into the back of my classroom. Walking up the incline in the parking garage took all of the lingering energy and strength I had in my body, and often left me upset. I loved school, and because of my disorder, I could hardly make it around campus. What should have been a ten minute walk across campus became a half hour hike. I was determined to finish out the school year, like I had planned. Because I was still in the depths of my disorder, I was also determined to make it up the four flights of steep steps to my classroom, even if it would make me an additional five minutes late. I had a step goal to worry about.

Sitting down in class was painful. With my bones sticking out in various places, sitting in a hard chair was uncomfortable, as was the air conditioning. I often couldn't focused, because I was so tired, focused on everything I needed to catch up on, how I couldn't wait to sleep, which workout I would do later, or what I would make for dinner, and hoping my roommate wasn't around when I had to cook.

After class, I would try to get to my car as quick as I could. Often, I was so hungry, and anxious, I would have a panic attack in my car (or in the middle of the parking garage) before making it onto the road. Once I was home, I showered (if I had the energy), put off dinner as long as possible, and did whatever homework I could manage to complete, before heading into bead around 8:30 p.m.

Having dealt with depression for most of my life, I am more aware of the signs of relapse than I am with my eating disorder, which can be very sneaky- the addiction makes it hard to see commonly used behaviors as a problem when you're using them.

However, despite how mindful I try to be, sometimes these relapses catch me off-guard, as it did this past weekend.

Here are a few ways that I try to combat bouts of relapse:

• Know your triggers- as I mentioned before in a previous post, it's very important to know the things that trigger you, so you can trace your relapse back to a source and work through it. This past weekend, I was able to trace my brief relapse with depression to two major triggers that I chose to avoid when they came up. Avoiding it rather than confronting it as soon as they surfaced resulted in a week and a half long bout of depression, where I didn't want to write, didn't want to answer calls from my family, and didn't feel like myself.
• Check your meds- If you are suffering from depression, an eating disorder, or any other mood or mental disorder, which you take medications for, you may need to check with your doctor if you need an adjustment on your dosage. It is very important to be honest and upfront with your doctor about the affects the medicine has on you, so she can ensure you are on the proper medication and proper dosage. Remember, this may take some trial and error on both ends, so try to have patience and be fair to yourself.
• Stop- It's natural when you feel triggered, to want to resort to what you know, which would be using behaviors. Instead, take time to use some of the tools you learned in treatment to change the negative behavior to a positive one. Call a friend, journal, take a walk, etc.
• Forgive, and start again- If you do have a slip up and have negative feelings or resort to using a behavior, it's important to be honest. Fess up to your doctor, a family member, a friend, whoever you feel comfortable talking to. This is a time you need to go easy on yourself, because there is something that triggered you to use those behaviors. Forgive yourself for using the behavior, look at what may have triggered you so you can be better prepared for next time the situation comes up, and get right back on the path of recovery. Do. Not. Delay.
• Remind yourself why you're here- When recovery starts to feel impossible, remind yourself why you're here, why you're fighting for it, why recovery is worth it, and ultimately, why you deserve it. 

Things never to say to someone recovering from an eating disorder

Something I've noticed not a lot of people have experience with is talking to someone recovering from an eating disorder. 

Once people know, they may feel awkward, unsure of how to talk to someone, but knowing they want to be supportive. 

I've encountered doctors, family members and friends who did not know how to talk to me regarding my recovery from anorexia. I've had some speak out in ignorance, comment how my body was growing: I got my hips/butt/boobs back, which to me, is not a compliment. It's surface level and insincere. To me, it would mean more if they had said something like how proud they were to see me enjoying the activities that I used to, how happy they were to see me writing again, etc. I've had some family members who threw their hands up in the air in frustration, 'unsure of what to tell me,' annoyed, I would respond, 'say nothing!' Letting it linger as the elephant in the room. 

Throughout my recovery and to this day, I am often uncomfortable in my recovering body and accepting my regained appetite. However, at the same time, I am determined to educate those who are unsure on how to talk to those recovering. It is not a topic to be avoided entirely, but one to be understood. One that requires a little bit of patience and a little bit of empathy. 

I've asked my Instagram followers to add their input on the topic of what not to say to someone recovering from an eating disorder:

[On what to eat]: 

• "Just eat."- If it were that simple, no one would have an eating disorder. Telling someone with an eating disorder, or a history of disordered eating to 'just eat' is like telling someone with depression to 'just smile,' or someone with cancer to 'just be well.' Also, for someone with a history of disordered eating, there is a lot of anxiety surrounding meal times, a little patience and empathy goes a long way. Practice it. 

• "You should eat x...."- We know what we should eat, we know what we actually want to eat. The problem is the little voice in our head that is spewing us lies that we are fat, not good enough, etc. and the little voice that feeds us 'rules' about what types of foods are 'good' or 'bad' for us blurs what we should and should not do, resulting in a panic.
  
•  "I eat x..." "I follow x meal plan/diet"- For lack of better words, I don't care and neither does anyone else. A diet is something very personal, projecting your beliefs surrounding nutrition is rude and unnecessary. Every body is different, and every person requires different things. I had one therapist who supposedly specialized in eating disorders rave to me about her low-carb diet, and all of the components. While she thought she was being helpful, I found her to be extremely triggering, because I would constantly compare what she told me was in her diet to my self-mad 'rules' about my own diet.
  
•  "What is that?" - Questions that seem normal to those who have not experienced disordered eating feel like personal attacks to someone who has. Asking simple questions like 'what is that?' 'what are you eating?' can invoke a lot of anxiety. When I was recovering, if someone asked about anything on my plate, I would make it a point not to eat the thing they were asking about and throw it away. Meal times caused a lot of anxiety for me, so someone making innocent conversation with me about my food felt like added pressure, and I couldn't go through with eating it. Once it was questioned, in my mind, the food was 'bad.'
  
•  "That's a lot of protein/fat/carbs"- Again, someone who is recovering has different needs than someone who did not have a past of disordered eating. For me, this was eating a load of carbs, because my body was trying to gain back the weight it had lost, and while I was sick, I refused to eat any carb that was not natural (fruit/vegetable), and banned off fats altogether.  
  
•  "Did you finish that?"- *See above* A person recovering has different needs. Meaning, they will need more calories than people who don't have a disordered eating past. Out of treatment, they recommend three snacks per day along with three meals. This alone can cause anxiety for someone recovering, especially if the people they are around are not eating as often as they are. It's best to be supportive, and not comment on food, if you can help it.
  
• "Save some for me," "You're eating me out of house and home" [hahaha]: Food 'jokes' to someone recovering are not and will never be funny. Not at all. Like I said, food is something that causes major anxiety, especially the amount, if someone had a past history of restricting. It is common for someone recovering to experience extreme hunger, where it is normal to eat 5,000+ calories per day to repair the damage they have done to their bodies. This makes the sufferer extremely uncomfortable and it is best to be supportive. Try saying things like: 'You're recovering,' 'Your body is working to repair the damage that has been done.' 'Listen to your body.'
•  "That's a lot of food for someone so little"- Just don't make this comment ever. To anyone. Recovering or not. How much food someone is eating is none of your business. Every body is different and requires different things to run efficiently. In this case, just mind your business. What works for you, might not work for someone else. 

And more... 

In general, if you know someone is recovering from a past of disordered eating, it is best to not discuss food with them. What may be innocent to someone without a history of eating disorder, may interpret in the sufferers mind differently. What may seem innocent to you, may turn into a 'food rule' for them. It's best to avoid it entirely and focus on conversation about work/your day/plans for the weekend, etc. Anything not involving food/exercise. 

[On body]:

"You were never fat" : Eating disorders are not always about appearance, but sometimes a poor self-esteem/depression, which was the case for me. Instead, try saying something about how much the persons friendship means to you, how you appreciate his/her ability to always make you laugh, how loyal of a friend they are. A body is merely an outer shell to hold who we really are. People do not hangout with other people, because their body looks a certain way. If they do, these are not people you need in your life.

"You look so healthy" : This is another one of those statements that may sound innocent, or even encouraging to someone who has not had a history of eating disorder, but to someone who suffered from an eating disorder/poor body image, the evil voice in their head that holds the disorder near and dear translates healthy to mean fat.

"You're getting your butt/boobs back" : I got this one a lot while I was recovering. Before I got sick, I had a very athletic/muscular body. However, I was very uncomfortable with my recovering body, as I was unable to workout during this time. What would be a compliment to some, upset me to no end. I never took this as a compliment, rather an insult. I am not my body. Anyone can have a 'nice body,' but what about my ability to write? What about my determination at work? Compliment me on something I actually worked for, something unique to me. That means more to me than surface level compliments ever will. 

Have you lost weight?/At least you're starting to gain weight back/ How much do you weigh now?/ I weigh X...: Don't ask questions about weight. Good or bad. Numbers should be off limits, especially for someone recovering from an eating disorder. People with a history with eating disorders often have a distorted body image perception, so they will likely always assume they are gaining weight, even if they're not. To regain a healthy view on their bodies, they should avoid weighing themselves in the first place. 

I had several doctors that would shout out my new weight across the hospital, because they were so happy to see that I gained. For my disorder, this made me feel like a failure. I didn't want to hear the number, let alone have it shouted across the room. This often led to me having a panic attack in the parking lot inside my car, vowing to rely on behaviors to go face-to-face with that scale next week. If you have to be weighed for medical reasons, it's best to face the other way, look up at the ceiling, or ask the doctor to cover the numbers, which is what mine eventually had to do. 

• Another thing that may be off-limits for someone recovering from a history of disordered eating is exercise. : For me, at least, when I was recovering and unable to exercise myself, I would become very angry hearing anyone talk about their workout, seeing a women's health magazine, or anything of the sort. I wanted to move my body, and I would misplace my frustration on anyone who could do so in a healthy manner. 

Note: This list is subjective, based on my first-hand experience and opinions, along with some tips added from my Instagram followers input. Each case is different. If you are unsure of how to talk to a friend or loved one recovering from an eating disorder, it's best to ask them, "What topics are off-limits for you?" "Is it OK that I talk about this?" The best thing you can do as a friend is be supportive, patient, and empathetic to their unique situation. 

           

How I maintain my recovery

"You were sick, but now you're well again, and there's work to do."

-Vonnegut

 Anyone who has ever embarked on the road to recovery can tell you one thing: it's not easy. 

But anyone who has made it to the other side of recovery can promise you one thing: it's sure as hell worth it. 

Having been in recovery for almost five full months from my eating disorder, I can say with full confidence that it isn't easy, pretty, or a narrow road. But, I have never felt more alive and more excited about life than I do right now. A day I never thought I would know while in the depths of my disorder. 

Even months into recovery, recovery is still a conscious choice I need to make every day. I still slip. I still make mistakes. And sometimes when I'm stressed, I resorted to using behaviors. But, over the course of the last few months, I have learned how to better manage my disorder to maintain my recovery: 

Know your triggers: When I first got out of treatment, this was huge for me. I was uncomfortable with my body as it quickly and desperately was trying to get back to a normal weight, and I was triggered by almost everything around me. 

During this time, I couldn't hear anyone talk about food, ask about my food, hear about diet, numbers, workouts, or even see work out clothes. It was hard for me to see or hear people talking about working out while I wasn't allowed to exert any of my own energy. The majority of the clothes in my closet were workout clothes, and I went as far as having to hide them in a drawer under my bed, so I would not be triggered by seeing them, and attempt to workout.

Be vocal: Once you become aware of the things/topics that trigger you, tell the people around you. This is particularly important if you cannot avoid the situations. For example, you can avoid passing by a gym, or a vitamin store, however it is common for women to talk about food/diet/calories. If this is something that bothers you, try to divert the conversation in a different direction. If you feel comfortable enough, tell the person. "The topic of this conversation makes me uncomfortable, would you mind if we talked about something else?" or "It really upsets me when you mention x, y, z," "Would you mind not talking about numbers/calories/diets around me?"

Ask for help: Confide in the people closest to you whether it be a parent, sibling, friend, or teacher. From there, you can research treatment options in your area: therapy, out-patient, intensive outpatient program, or residential treatment. For some people, medication is instrumental in helping them maintain recovery. For me, I can say medication has saved my life. It was such an overwhelming and emotional relief when I started to feel well again, and it happened almost immediately. A therapist or your doctor can help you decide if this is the right option for you. Also, the books: "Breaking Vegan" by Jordan Younger and "The Goddess Revolution" by Mel Wells have helped me change my mindset around diet culture. For more resources, visit nationaleatingdisorders.org. 

Establish a 'recovery toolbox': Create a go-to list of things to resort to when you're feeling triggered. Instead of using behaviors, these are positive outlets to focus your energy on. For me, these things include: writing, reading, making a cup of tea, talking to someone I love, watching comedy, going for a walk, or doing an art project. 

Distract yourself : This tip is particularly helpful for those who have anxiety around mealtimes, or with exercise compulsion. If you are feeling anxious around meal times, try talking to someone while you shop/prepare/eat your meal. This helps to divert the focus on the food to your conversation. Meals are meant to be enjoyed and shared with those you love. Going out to eat is common for catching up with friends/meetings, etc. This is something that I still am working on myself and have come a long way. I used to have panic attacks before every dinner. I didn't know what and how much to make. It helps me to pre-plan my meals, so when the time comes, I know what I have to do. I also make the same thing for most meals (same breakfast, same lunch, etc.) so I have no anxiety around choices. Grocery shopping used to make me blackout with sensory overload. Now, it helps me a great deal to go shopping with one of my friends or my sister, who is aware of my anxiety. Now, we have fun looking at new products together, picking out groceries, and enjoying conversation. 

Practice intuitive eating/intuitive exercise: Intuitive means to use what one feels to be true. This might mean asking your body: 'What do I feel like eating this morning?' 'What do I feel I need/ would nourish my body best?' Is it Orange Juice? Have some. Do you want pancakes? Have some. There are no good or bad foods. Eat what your body is asking for and stop when you're full. It really can be that simple. Your body knows what it wants and needs and will stop when it has had enough, as long as you keep checking in. 

Intuitive exercise is also something that I am constantly working towards. For most of us, this means doing what feels good for your body. Hate running? Don't do it. Does the gym feel like torture? Don't go. Everything works differently for every body and people have different interests. For me personally, I hate running and the gym is boring. But, I love boxing and I like riding my bike. I look forward to doing these things for my body and they never feel like a chore. If your workout feels like a chore, it's not right for you. There is something that you will enjoy, and that may take exploring different activities. You will find it. Be patient. Be adventurous. 

Intuitive exercise also means not being too strict on your plan. If you had a long night before, it's alright to skip the gym. If your body is telling you it's too sore or too tired for today's workout, listen. 

Disclaimer: I am not claiming to be a doctor, therapist, or expert on recovery. I am simply sharing my first-hand experience and the things that worked best for me. If you feel that you or someone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, consult your doctor or visit https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/ for more information. 

Recap of NEDA Walk 2017

"It's time to talk about it"

Thank you to those who donated to Team Kwas to help us raise a total of $1,305 for the 2017 Santa Monica NEDA walk. We surpassed our original goal by $300!

After almost a week of rain in Los Angeles, we finally got a sunny day- making it the perfect morning for a walk by the beach.

Leading up to the walk, I was excited about the thought of the event, however, the morning of I was extremely nervous. The jig was up. My secret would now be out. Or so I thought. During my entire span of treatment, I never wanted my name associated with the dreaded "A" word, because of the stigma that was attached to it. People saw it as a disorder about vanity, or perfectionism. Which sometimes, I guess is the case. But, not for me. For me, it was never about food, or how I looked. For me, anorexia developed as a manifestation of poor self esteem. My depression was drowning me. I didn't care how my body looked, because I never wanted to look in the mirror long enough to analyze it. I didn't want to use the "A" word, because that would mean admitting there was a problem, which in turn would mean admitting I needed help. I needed to face it. Who would want that?

ED thoughts bombarded me as my sister and I made our way to the beach. I wondered what the other walkers would look like. I wonder if they would even believe I ever suffered from an eating disorder, now that I was weight restored.

I wrongfully had these thoughts during in-patient treatment, also, but to my dismay, I almost was kicked out of treatment in fear that my low weight might trigger the other patients or hinder their recovery.

I wondered if being at the walk would help, or trigger me further. I briefly hoped it would trigger me, but quickly dismissed it. 

These thoughts always catch me by surprise having been in what most people would call 'recovery' for almost five months now. But, that's the dangerous thing about eating disorders. The symptoms aren't always obvious, as they are often things that can't be seen, something the sufferer hides and hides well.

I knew this was supposed to be an event about celebrating recovery, but I was constantly fighting it.

The energy at the walk was incredible. You could feel the men and women in attendance were feeling happy to be alive, happy to be given a second shot at life, and a dedication to life and learning to love it and themselves.

Meeting people in person that you have connected with over Instagram through the eating disorder community was a surreal and inspiring things. There are so many people doing amazing work to support recovery through blogging, and have helped me immensely throughout my own recovery by answering my questions and being a shoulder to virtually cry on when days got challenging.

I was looking forward to hearing the speakers: Aerie Real Model, Iskra Lawrence, YouTuber, Matt Shepard and Instagrammer and Body Positive/Recovery Activist, Gina (@nourishandeat).

I loved hearing Matt Shepard's speech about acknowledging the minority in the eating disorder community, which are the men who suffer.

All pain is valid and needs to be acknowledged as so. His speech was powerful and motivating, and contained a call to action to address the men. Acknowledging that men also suffer allow them the courage to speak out and speak up and ask for help.

Like any other disease, mental health and eating disorders do not discriminate. They affect men, women, minorities, and people of all ages and sizes. 

It was refreshing to hear Iskra Lawrence reinforce to the men and women in the audience that every body is a good body, regardless of the media tells us. As the face of Aerie Real, she embraces her flaws, stretch marks and imperfections and exudes confidence.

There was so much power in the walk banding together with men and women and encouraging each other, rather than judging one another. Encouraging each other to love the skin we're in, imperfections and all. We have one body that is merely a vehicle to get from point A to point B and is capable of amazing things, and like Iskra said, our body is our home. We should treat it nicely. Everything on the outside is simply decoration.

There are no words to describe how special I felt having my sister, and our friends spend their Saturday morning with us walking in my honor, and all of those who have suffered and have come out victorious, or are working on building up their strength.

As I chug along on my recovery journey, I am learning more and more everyday how much my struggles have affected my family as well as they have myself.

My sister said being at the walk was emotional for her, because she was about to walk with me, rather than in honor of me. And after the last year, it was a close call.

As Matt Shepard told the crowd, "Your recovery is the greatest gift you have."

And I'm working on it every day.

Until next year... It's time to talk about it. 

Recovery is tough, but so are you

"My recovery must come first so everything I love in life does not have to come last."

Graduating university with crippling anxiety and a co-existing debilitating eating disorder is one of my greatest and bravest accomplishments to-date. 

I'd like to say that the moment that I got out of the hospital, recovery from that point on was smooth sailing. 

But, that's not reality. 

Recovery is hard. And messy. And a daily choice. 

At this point, I didn't know what would make me want to choose recovery. I loved my family, my job, school, and my work, but for some reason, something inside still resented myself. My friends and family wanted recovery for me more than I did. It would never stick long-term, I thought. 

All of the affirmations that I had learned during treatment, which I once viewed as bullshit became my lifelines. 

Some things I can't change. I need to become familiar with my triggers and actively avoid them. I need to stop responding to negative energy. For once in my life I needed to allow myself to be selfish, and focus only on me. I needed to be surrounded by positive and supportive people. 

I was vulnerable and completely succeptible to triggers. At this point, everything triggered me. 

There could be no mention of numbers, calories, diets, food, workout plans, exercise, I couldn't wear workout clothes, or look at anyone who was, I couldn't drive down Bayshore Blvd. and see all of the people running, without the urge to jump out of my passenger side window and run alongside them. I couldn't have anyone comment on my food or my body, whether good or bad, I didn't want to be asked if I was working out or moving my body at all. I didn't want sympathy. I couldn't be in the grocery store. I couldn't eat any of the foods that I had used to punish my body during the height of my disorder and the depths of restriction. I couldn't look at other people's carts at the grocery store, without returning everything in mine, and opting for healthier options. I couldn't see anyone who was thinner than me without stressing out. I couldn't talk about my rollercoaster brain: one day devout to recovery, the other wanting to cut everyone out of my life who might promote my recovery.

The worst parts about recovery for me were: 

1) Accepting the fact that I couldn't exercise: 

          I tried. I have been active my whole life, just for fun. Soccer, basketball, track, boxing, biking, swimming, running, walking. I hopped on my bike, feeling rebellious for going against my mom and doctor's wishes. I used to ride 20 miles no problem, now, I could barely complete a mile. So I walked. I aimed for the 10,000 steps per day. Extreme hunger kicked in. My body didn't want to let go of anymore weight, and if I exercised, I had to eat double the calories to make up for what I burned. It made more sense to skip it entirely. It was hard enough to hit my calorie goal as it was.

2) Extreme Hunger: 

          This was the most physically, mentally and emotionally challenging part of recovery next to the weight returning. Extreme hunger is a common symptom for those recovering from any eating disorder or period of calorie restriction. With extreme hunger it is normal to consume between 6,000-10,000 calories in a single day. And boy did I. Even though I knew I needed the calories that I had deprived my body of for so long, I was still fighting it. I was terrified of it. I thought it would never end and I would never be able to stop eating. I wanted to just be normal around food, have a normal portion. I swore now I'd listen to the dietitian and have a protein, carb and fat, and not just a protein and vegetable if it would just go away forever. 

3) What do I wear?

          My clothes don't fit. But, I know deep down, they were never meant to. I had a panic attack the first time I tried to slip on the size 0 Old Navy boyfriend jeans that were once too big on me, and I couldn't manage to get them over my knees. My regular size is a size 8, but losing the label felt like a loss of control for me. It was the only time I was a size 0 in my life, and probably (and hopefully) the only time I will be again. To avoid future anxiety, I threw away all of the clothes I wore when I was sick, before ever trying them on. All of the child size clothes, all of the crop tops and sleeveless blouses- gone. Why put myself through that when I knew what the outcome would be? My mom took me shopping to buy clothes in my regular size. She was thrilled, and I tried to avoid the mirror, choosing clothes strictly off her opinion and whether or not the high waist promised to conceal my growing belly. 

I'd like to say that after being released from the hospital, I never relapsed. But, that would be a lie. 

I found myself thinking a lot about my time in the hospital and the routine I had developed there: 7:30 breakfast, 12:30 lunch, 5:00 dinner, group therapy throughout the day, work on homework during breaks, and 9:00 snack and medicine. I found myself missing my routine. I wanted to be back there- but, why?

Having been so numb while I was in the hospital, I was processing the entire experience for the first time. And I felt bad for that girl who was trapped in those four walls- confined to an IV. I felt bad for the girl whose routine became waking up to getting blood drawn and pressure taken, getting shots in the stomach to prevent infection, and offered pills like they were tic tacs. I felt bad for all of the CT scans, echocardiograms, ultrasounds, and X-Rays, where she didn't blink, becoming so indifferent to the process. I didn't know that girl, and I didn't want to be her. Not anymore.

My triggers sometimes still catch me by surprise, though not as often as they used to

Now, I'm better prepared, and the people around me are more aware and quick to call out my behaviors. 

I share my story not to gain empathy or sad stares for myself, but I share to raise awareness for the others who struggle. Every man or woman who has struggled with an eating disorder who has ever felt confused or scared or silenced or trapped. I share for the sufferers who feel silenced, out of fear of the consequences of what would happen if they revealed their deepest secret. I share for those who are scared to leave their disorder behind. Like a bad relationship, it's time to quit it. It's time to speak up and be fearless in despite of the threats the demons might make. 

This is a new chapter and only you can choose how you want to define it.