#edulting

Consider me humbled this tax season as I realize that 21% of this year's income went to ed treatment & therapy (and that's WITH great insurance through my job).

Fun fact: my higher levels of care would have totaled over $250,000 without insurance. I still spent over $6,000 with insurance. And, though I was suffering and sick, I've been privileged and lucky to be able to continue my treatment in less-insanely-expensive outpatient treatment (vs getting caught in the very real and exhausting and dangerous treatment cycle).

Ten years ago I never thought I'd survive the year, let alone ten. I was deep in my eating disorder. It was the summer before senior year. I was depressed and anxious and hoping my ED would kill me.

Today, I consider myself recovered. I am a semester away from finishing graduate school. I have been a teacher for two years, and I love it. I'm married and in love. I'm planning to start a family. The worst thing in my life is that I'm bored with summer vacation and my classes aren't interesting enough. Things are pretty damn good.

I struggled for years. I didn't just wake up and feel better. It was an up and down journey from when I decided to really try recovery in late 2014, through years of outpatient treatment, some residential treatment, a couple of hospital stays, and many different medications. It was hard, and there were many times when I didn't think I'd get through it. In fact, I didn't think I'd get through it until the moment I realized I was actually getting better (fall 2019). For a while, I thought the only way I'd recover was if I pushed myself every single day to adhere to a meal plan—mechanically brute forcing life. But that passed. It got easier. Then it became automatic. Then the eating disorder thoughts and urges became a thing of the past.

I've had almost five years of being stable in recovery, and life gets so much better. I can enjoy the little things. I can get through hard moments, knowing they're only temporary.

A lot changed this year. There’s been grief and growth and despondency and persistence. Some things pushed me in good direction — some aspects of life genuinely are better now. I’ve also used other things as excuses to lapse in recovery

of course that’s hard to measure, so I go to body comparisons (classic)

what’s different now is I see the effects of restriction and I’m like “where’s the light in my eyes? Where’s the energy I felt last year? I look alive when I was weight restored. I know I was distressed, AND I was also so much more present. I feel a million miles away now. Hitting certain lower numbers didn’t actually make me happier or more connected. I actually feel significantly worse (or don’t feel at all)”

I’m adding the comparison pictures below, but also keeping them as a read more because

1. body checking (even “just” face photos) is no joke

2. I want to cw/tw this post

3. I know that posting self comparisons in itself is Not A Good Choice and I don’t want to give pictures Center stage

4. Maybe I’ll actually have the nerve to delete them later and treat my feelings and experiences as valid regardless of weight changes

(about to mini rant in a post, stay tuned)

I'm no longer obsessing daily about my body and my progress towards a goal (whether that be a healthy goal or not).

Recovery is so so so important, but your life won't always be this hard. You can get through this to the other side. I struggled for yeeeeaaars and thought it'd never be over. And it was bad... I'm not going to quantify my struggle, but it was very real. (I realize some success stories are difficult to be motivated by if the ED doesn't seem "as bad"... I dont believe body numbers are relevant, but it did take me years of various levels of treatment to get to a good place).

I still struggle with food sensitives (ARFID) but my life is nolonger controlled by anorexia (or arfid for that matter). I'm confident in my body. I have a career that I love. I'm healthy. I have a loving relationship. I can take care of myself as an adult. I'm happy.

I can't tell you exactly what did the trick for me. Various medications. Careful mechanical eating for a long time. Controlled challenges. Mindfulness exercises. The biggest thing for me was trauma work. Trauma was why I kept going back to my ED, so it just kept coming back until I dealt with my trauma. And that was hard. So hard. But soooo worth it. I gained more weight than I wanted to. More than what is strictly BMI healthy. And that was so scary. But at a higher bmi, I actually found myself more comfortable. Way more confident.

I know Thanksgiving can be so hard for those of us in recovery, but I just wanted to remind everyone that it doesn't have to always be that way.

This year I'm excited to spend time with family and eat delicious food.

This year I'm fucking free. And you can be too. Don't give up.