Against all odds
She's not someone you'd expect to recovery. Decades living with an eating disorder, endless barriers to jump over. But seeing the progress that my patient (I'll refer to as) Amy has made should provide hope to anyone who has long given up. Yes, recovery is possible. Not easy. Not quick. But possible. Please read through the end and share your thoughts with "Amy".
In the last 50+
years, I cannot remember a time in which I was satisfied (even slightly) with
my body. As a matter of fact, I view it
as disgusting and embarrassing. Even at
my sickest state, I was convinced I was the fattest one in the room. In this point of my recovery, I deem it
important to reflect on how far I’ve come.
Below is my life’s journey thus far.
It is uncertain to
me why I have suffered from Eating Disorders for most of my life. However, in my past, could lay the meaning
for all of this. My mom had EDs
always. My ED could be attributed to
nature vs. nurture. In other words, it
was perhaps either a learned behavior or maybe it was genetically passed down
to me. It seemed important to my Mom
that I should watch what I eat. She was
always suggesting that I should not have seconds at meals. I remember my Dad taking us for ice cream
when we were kids. My mom would always
get a diet soda so it seemed appropriate to me to follow her lead. When I was 8
years old I experienced a terrible trauma.
Even all these years later, I cannot reveal the details of this
trauma. All of these childhood memories
are what, I believe, set the course for this ever-lasting emotional
rollercoaster that is my life.
As I was preparing
to graduate from high school, my ED became quite severe. I was passing out on a daily basis. My pediatrician told me that I was being “ridiculous”;
I did not need to lose any weight and to just “eat more”. It was at this time that I realized that if I
ate just enough, it would not raise suspicions. It was also in my teen years
that I started to self-harm. I did this
to the point of being certain it would kill me.
I didn’t care. These behaviors
even led into my adult life.
At the age of 23, I
was married and eventually had 3 kids.
During this time, my behaviors somewhat subsided until my husband began
drinking heavily. This not only effected
him, but it also effected me and our children.
What at first seemed like a “silver lining” was actually the calm before
the storm. I became engrossed in my ED
once again. All my behaviors emerged all
at once. I was unable to sit with my
family at the kitchen table during dinners.
I would make my own “safe” foods and eat at the counter while doing
chores while I ate. Even as an adult, I
was still following my Mom’s lead.
After 20+ years of
marriage I finally somehow found the strength to separate from my husband. As I began trying to pay our bills, it
quickly became apparent that there was no money left in our joint
accounts. I had to begin again. This stress increased the frequency of my ED
behaviors. I became quite sick
again. I refused to admit it. My foggy brain kept me from the reality of my
life. Even when close friends and family
claimed I needed help, I thought they were just trying to make me fat. Kathy, my therapist, challenged me to attend
an intake interview at an ED treatment center.
She even called them for me. I
went in order to prove my point – I do not need help!Getting help--no quick fix
What I thought would
be one hour out of my day, turned out to be four years of my life. Since that day, I have been in residential 3
times, and PHP and IOP too many times to count.
After each stay, I felt like a failure.
I’m not sure if I felt this way because I couldn’t be cured from my ED
or because I was letting my treatment team talk me into eating. Insurance was
not a great help. They would only
approve 2 weeks max in resi for my first 2 stays. I would be discharged from
residential and immediately make excuses for using just 1 or 2 behaviors. “That’s better than all of them”, I would
assure myself. My outpatient treatment
team were instrumental in convincing my insurance company to extend my
treatment in my last resi stay to 6 weeks.
Upon discharge, I thought I was cured.
I felt great for a few weeks before the ED got into my head again. I relapsed.
I overcame that
relapse thanks to the support of my RD, Lori and the rest of my treatment team.
She could see through the ED lies.
She knew I was relapsing even before I did. Yet I've turned it and I’ve had many accomplishments in the last few
months:
I dug myself out of
financial debt.
I eat my meal plan
consistently
I’ve attempted to
move away from “safe” foods.
I haven’t used ED
behaviors in 3 weeks.
I’ve enrolled myself
into a 16-week DBT group.
These are all
accomplishments that I would not have believed possible even 3 months ago. I will strive to add to this list within the
next 3 months. I feel more peace and
contentment in my life now than I have ever before.
The journey isn't over. But recovery is in site
Even though I
reached so many incredible accomplishments, that is only the beginning of the
end of my recovery. Today, there a different challenges to face. Being closer
to recovery than ever before, I am now terrified of losing my ED. It’s been my stress control, my safety net, my
numbing against my life. How do I let go
of it when I may need it again? What if
I can’t get it back? Even though I know that it is in my best interest to
continue to move forward with my recovery, part of me does not want to let go
of my ED forever. My goal going forward
will be to use my “wise” mind to conquer these thoughts. I want to be able to look in the mirror and think,
“I am who I am; I’ve done the best I could, given my circumstances, and I am
proud of what I’ve accomplished”. I WILL
continue to fight and learn to love myself, whoever that may be, “Against All
Odds”
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