Why Support In Recovery Is Crucial

Here's my weekly video for the ED recovery collaboration. The topic is: Why Support In Recovery Is Crucial. It's a short one, but there's a link to a separate video of mine in this one. Click to view on YouTube (it'll take you right there) as embedding is not currently an option do to other issues. Hope you're all having a great week!

200!

As of today, I officially have 200 YouTube subscribers! Having only been on YouTube since March of this year, I consider this quite lovely. This excites me, because the main topic for my channel is eating disorder recovery and I love knowing the there are people out there listening and getting some kind of benefit from my words. I tend to randomly upload a video or two of my crazy and entertaining mother...and there are two videos up unrelated to eating disorders (a slideshow of me and my husband, though it's semi-relevant because people often want to know more about my life, and a video compilation of my artwork over the last almost 15 years).

My YouTube Channel can be found here. Thanks to everyone for watching my recovery videos and for sending such wonderful comments. I truly appreciate it and promise to keep churning out the videos. :)

Love & hope to all of you.

Question # 9: Eating Disorders & Dating

Question # 9 is the last one from Licketysplit.

"When you were dating at what point did you feel it was appropriate to bring up your ED? I don't want a guy to think I'm being deceptive or closed off (because realistically my ED is a pretty big part of my past and NOT talking about it at all can get difficult) But I don't really want to scare him off before he even gets to know me."

You've heard of intuitive eating.... try intuitive speaking.

Seriously.

I'm all about letting yourself feel when the time is right. You don't want to stress over how to tell and when to tell. When you are talking to the guy and the something comes up that makes you feel like opening up, you will know. You might not even be talking. One day, when you're with him, you can just sense that the time was right.

Maybe you're afraid that the time will never be right. If your mind isn't telling you to speak, then just hold off--go with your intuition--and wait as long as you feel is necessary. If you've entered into a serious relationship with him months down the road and still haven't felt the time was right, then you'll need to analyze your feelings and fears, but chances are that this won't happen.

There are the inevitable worries, like that someone may think you have too much baggage. And there’s the plain and simple fact that telling someone about your eating disorder is a weird thing to just bring up. But if you are feeling receptive towards the person, you will know when to tell...and what to tell...and if the person doesn't accept it as a part of you, or thinks it is too much baggage, then s/he isn't the person for you. I know that kind of sucks, but it's true. You'll want to be with someone who can understand and support you.

With my husband, when he wasn't my husband, I told him almost randomly. Not nonchalantly...but just as part of conversation. I didn't sit him down and tell him I needed to tell him something serious. I just felt that the time was right and the words rolled out of me.

I remember it well. It was very early on in our relationship. We were lying in his bed, not ready to sleep or do anything--just talking and holding each other, really enjoying the moment, sharing little pieces of ourselves. And I said, "I'll tell you something you don't know about me yet." (We were still learning things about each other.) "I suffered from anorexia and I'm doing okay now, but it was really difficult in the past." And then he looked at me—as a man will when you say something like that and he cares even remotely about you—and he looked like he wanted more of the story (obviously). So I just kind of told him a little about how I was recovering and dealing with things and that I considered myself to be doing really well, but that I still had a few weird habits (not behaviors), etc. (This was about 3 years ago.)

The best advice I can give you is not to think of it as something shameful. It's part of your past and its remains are still part of your present. It's like someone you're dating telling you about his/her childhood and how his/her father died, and what happened to the person from there. Just a different situation. You know?

My husband, back then, after I told him that...he was great and it wasn't a big deal at all...and what’s most interesting to note is that he told me about how his dad had left them (my husband, his younger brother, and their mom) back when my husband was 15, and about how he stopped being a straight A student and had next to no relationship with his dad until he was much older. That was a big thing to him, you know? Same as my past. Everyone has something they are worried about sharing. Everyone has a story that is something that don’t share with just anyone.

I’m going to go in another direction here for a moment even though Licketysplit didn’t mention this in her question. I think a lot of people can relate to what I’m about to discuss, though, and it’s completely relevant to the question at hand.


The other thing about dating someone who knows your history (or present issues) is that as the relationship deepens it’s important that your eating disorder not be a secret, because then you can always fall back on it when times are tough and no one is the wiser. It helps to have someone in your court, especially if that someone is becoming important in your life.

Telling everyone everything isn’t going to magically help you recover. But you have to be honest with yourself or you will never get anywhere. And sometimes, being honest with yourself means that you are more honest and open with others in your life. When it comes right down to it, the only one really INVOLVED in your recovery is YOU. Everyone else is just a support...or an instigator. A therapist is somehow “involved,” but not really in the process itself, as it takes place inside you; a therapist is only involved in helping and supporting you and offering knowledge. A significant other is somehow “involved,” but not really in the process itself, as it takes place inside you; a significant other is only involved in helping you and supporting you.

So much of eating disorders are tied up in secrecy—whether it’s about secrets you hold inside of you, or keeping the eating disorder secret and thereby hanging on to it and maintaining “control.” You don’t have to come clean about every little thing in order to recover, in order to date someone or maintain a stable long-term relationship.

There is secrecy that stems from saying that the past and there is moving on. They are very different. If you feel like you are keeping something hidden and can't get past it...and if keeping it from certain people hinders your recovery or makes it easier for you to fall back on the eating disorder, then it's secrecy. If you have done things in the past but don't go into detail about them with people in your life and you are trying to get past them AND are NOT keeping them a secret for the sole purpose of falling back on them, then perhaps it's not important that you spill the beans about it all. Does that make sense?

I'm fairly open when it comes to my past eating disorder behaviors and such, but I didn't make it a point to tell everyone in my life everything I ever did or struggled with. As long as I am being honest with MYSELF, and I could be honest with myself and determine if I was strong enough to plod ahead without going into detail about things, then it was good. If I was honest with myself and thought that I was holding things in for a particular reason, then I needed to assess that and go from there.


Back to the main concerns...

People worry about “how” to tell romantic interest. Does it need to be verbal? Person-to-person? Written down? A letter? An email? By bringing the new person to therapy with you?

I think it needs to be done in whatever way is going to make YOU feel better and more comfortable. You need to be comfortable with it. But you also need to take the plunge sometime and put your REAL self out there. People want to date a real person, not a fake one. And remember: the anticipation of telling someone is so much scarier than the actual conversation itself. How many times do we worry about something that is impending that we become stressed and upset and nervous and scared... but then when the actual situation is over, realize that it wasn’t nearly as bad as the build-up? Our emotions are what make us afraid. Relief will follow.

I'm recovered and in my opinion, recovery is a personal journey...and no two journeys are alike. So in order to fully recover, you need to work within yourself to do what feels right to you. We've all had different pasts and different behaviors and backgrounds...and recovery means different things for all of us. It's your call what you decide to tell, and when, and how.

There is no appropriate time. Or rather, the appropriate time will be different for all of us. For me, it happened very early on when I was dating Rick. But that was because the time felt right, I felt good with him, I wasn’t ashamed. I listened for the little bell of the “right moment of comfortability” and let it all out there. Be secure with yourself. Say what you need to say. And if s/he doesn’t react properly, you’ll do it again with the next person. We can only bank on ourselves. We cannot predict what others will say and do and think. We must “go with the flow,” take a deep breath, and have the hope that things will work out the way they’re meant to work out.

You'll know what to do. Go with your instincts and your intuition.

Call for Creativity...

 

Question # 9 is on its way, but...

 

Next week, my blog will officially be two years old, and I'd love to give it an updated look...something new and fresh, and perhaps a little more eye-catching. I recently changed some colors and cleaned things up a bit, but I'd like to do more for it's 2 year anniversary. I've had the simple look going for the last two years and I'd really like to keep all the wording the same, because my message is a simple yet important one... but I'm ready for a change.

 

I'd LOVE to change the main header (same wording, but something cooler). Put up something that really draws people in when they get here.

Any ideas for an image for my header? I'm basically image-less here (except for my little personal photo on the left-hand side). What would YOU like to see? What could embody the spirit of this site?

 

Leave a comment and I'll take it to heart. Ideas, suggestions, thoughts, and detailed descriptions welcome! Please assist!

Stop Pretending and Start Being Real

Here's my weekly Wednesday video for the ED recovery collaboration. Today I talk about learning how to stop pretending and start being real. It's a bit off the cuff, but hopefully you'll see its glimmer of merit. :)

You'll have to click to watch on YouTube...been having troubles with trolls stealing videos from people on the collab and using them on their own site claiming to BE the actual persons in the videos.

Question #8: Parents

Question # 8 comes from Licketysplit once again, and man, does she have some good ones. My little fingers were a'typing and a'typing. She asks:

 

Has your family always been supportive and understanding in regards to your eating disorder and recovery?

 

The short answer is no. Here's the long answer:

 

My family has always been pretty supportive of what I did and do in my life, but my mom is a lot more supportive than my father. Her take on me and my life is basically –I trust you, I trust your judgment, so if you're doing something, I support it. My dad would like to say he took the same approach, but he didn't.

 

In regards to my eating disorder, my family tried very hard to be understanding. It's a very difficult thing, having a child (especially one who's actually a teen or young adult) with an eating disorder. It's not easy for parents to "get it" and be able to magically understand. I still don't think my parents really understand, in the real sense of the word. But they did a lot to help me. They wanted me to get better. They were worried. They were concerned.

 

There were definitely moments I feel they should have done more. There were also definitely moments when they yelled and made me feel terrible. And there were also moments when they seemed to stop paying attention. You have to understand that all of this is from my perspective, the point of view of the eating disordered child. So can I really say they should have done more, felt more, acted differently? I don't know if I have that right. I am willing to accept that my perception at the time was skewed, not only about my body's appearance, but about many other things. I also know very well that there were times they were at their wits' end... times when their worries and panic overshadowed all else.

 

As far as moments I feel they should have done more— my two worst years were my freshman and sophomore years of college. I was far too thin—many, many pounds lighter than I am now at a healthy weight—and I was far too sad. I was so sick my hair was falling out and my friends were deeply worried. I was trying everything to help myself, because even at my sickest, I didn't want the life I was living. I saw a therapist at home, one at my university, had phone sessions when I was away, did group therapy, saw a nutritionist, etc. I sought out at least half of these resources myself. In fact, I'd made an appointment at the university counseling center before I even told my parents I had a problem. I personally think I needed IP and could have benefited from it. I think my state of mind was one that wanted to get better. Perhaps not totally, as I hung back and clung to behaviors and a "thin" identity, but I think the stronger part of me was bigger. Had they told me they wanted to send me somewhere, I would have fought them. I would have said I didn't want to go. I know I wanted to finish out college with no interruptions. But I wish they'd have tried harder to impress upon me that something more intensive was a possibility, was an option, was something that could help me.

 

Instead of using in-patient hospitalization or residency as a threat, they could have made it seem appealing, helpful. Instead of flinging around the phrase "We'll take you out of school and send you somewhere!" while screaming at me, they could have tried to explain that college would be there when I got back, that I could do IP while at home for the summer, over winter break, anything that was comforting and helpful, instead of making it seem like if I was sent to a treatment place it somehow meant I was a failure, had come to the last resort. Instead of likening IP to a mental institution, they could have took a breath and realized, hey she just needs more help than we can give her.

 

Lucky for them (and for me too I suppose), I finished college in 4 years with 2 degrees, my double major propelling me forward instead of holding me back. I figured it out on my own. I ate up the support I got from my best friend and leaned on her when I was weary of my journey. I utilized my resources and turned myself around. It just took longer.

 

As for moments when my parents yelled and made me feel terrible, I think it's par for the course. I don't blame them. I remember a specific night when I was 19 and they'd come to have dinner at my university (in a different state). My room mates and I had made dinner for our parents and my mom and dad noticed that I did not eat much of what was served. They abruptly left as soon as the meal was over and everyone else was still sitting around the table. I had to walk them downstairs and out of the building, while knowing that everyone was exchanging looks and talking about me back inside, other parents included. My parents chose to scream at me outside my building, in front of several people that were walking or sitting nearby. I still find it hard to understand what screaming at a frail, scrawny, scared 19 year old girl (in front of other people) is going to do. I know their frustration at my situation got the better of them. But I was thoroughly embarrassed, ashamed, depressed, and hurt.

 

They told me I "wasn't even trying" on more than one occasion, which made no sense to me considering I was doing everything in my power to get a handle on the situation and use my resources. Once, my father even threatened to stop paying for my therapist, as if that was somehow a solution. His reason: it obviously wasn't helping me, because I wasn't as far along as I should be.

 

I'll tell ya, though, I was a girl with "daddy issues." It's plan and simple, though as far as that phrase goes, it was really anything but simple. My dad and I didn't have a good relationship and while it's gotten better over the years, there is still room for improvement. The eating disorder thrived off of my problems with my father, his words to me, his manner towards me, and his lack of support.

 

My mom picked up the slack, though she still had her faults.

 

But you know what, everyone does. I can't blame her and I don't. She did what she could and she was wonderful to me, providing me with help that I needed, financially and emotionally. My dad was a different story, but since they're married, he was along for the ride whether he liked it or not.

 

And as for moments when they seemed to stop paying attention, well, it happens I guess. When I was doing better, doing well, they seemed to forget that there was ever a problem. Seemed to ignore that I was still in pain, still dealing, still healing. They didn't seem to understand that even though I would eat 3 meals a day, I was still not mentally recovered. They didn't "get" that even though I gained weight, I was still freaking out inside, still not in a place that was good. I got the distinct feeling, and often, that they thought Well, her weight is up, she's eating and doing pretty well—she's out of the woods. Finally.

 

Not that simple, but of course, you and I both know that.

 

You have to understand, though, that I answered your question from my own memories and thoughts, and that I now look at it all with a few more years under my belt, some extra wisdom, and a healthy recovered mind I was lacking before. At 25, I look at my past with my parents with the ripe desire to be a parent myself as soon as it happens for me, and the knowledge that nothing is EVER as easy as it looks...and that what seems so obvious to me may never have been obvious to the people around me. I love my parents and they did more for me during my illness and recovery than many parents do or can. They have always loved me and my mom supports me so much now with all my endeavors to reach out to others, to help and support, to spread the message that recovery is possible. She sees how far I've come and she's come pretty far herself. My dad's transformation is yet to be seen, but that has very little to do with my eating disordered past and very much to do with his own life.

 

It's not always about us. Parents are people. Parents are people. Parents are people. I think every child should be required to say that three times every day as s/he grows up. :) It can take us a while to realize that. And while I still would have done some things differently if I was them, I'm sure their job was no piece of cake. It's the now that matters. And I'm happy with the now.

 

What a question! :)

Back to the Questions...#7:

Here's another one (and a good one) by Licketysplit. She asks:
"Is there anything you can remember helping you specifically with being able to accept your body? Although I'm in a much better place than I have been in past years, it seems like every time I get momentum to finally kick this thing to the curb, my body image gets in the way and takes me back to ED."

I know this is going to sound strange, but I think Women’s Studies helped me be able to accept my body in a big way. I was an English major in college, but I also ended up leaving with a degree in Women’s Studies as well as English. I dabbled at first, taking a Women’s Studies class here and there, ended up making it my minor, and then took the plunge and added a second major to my workload. I liked it that much... and what's more, it made me feel good about myself.

Let me explain: While I sat in a lot of my Women’s Studies classes, I began to GROW a deep appreciation for my female body. I was super proud to be a woman, and I realized that a body came with that. I also was able to delve into a lot of eating disorder issues via books, films, discussions, and courses, so I could explore my own feelings, experiences, and better help myself and others. Being a Women’s Studies major helped me to like myself.

I don’t by any means think that the answer to accepting your body is Women’s Studies. (Haha.) It just happened to be a big part of the equation for me. I found my voice in those classes. I found some of the spirit I felt I had lost. I became less shy, less self-hating, and I discovered things about myself I didn’t even know. Plus, the feeling of...sisterhood, for lack of a better word... made me feel comforted and at ease. I liked feeling like a part of something and that something happened to be womanhood... a piece of the human race... which allowed me to express myself, accept myself and my body, and understand that all women are incredibly different and beautiful.

A lot of accepting my body was the “fake it ‘til you make it” rule of thumb. I just pretended really hard to be okay with myself and like myself, and the rest began to follow.

I took a lot of photos of myself. A lot. Not for bones and thinness and other things. But for beauty. I took pictures of myself and looked for beauty in them. I ended up liking a lot of photos I took of myself. I learned to smile at myself. Used my artistic eye to see loveliness. Told myself it was okay to have thoughts like, “Wow, I look really pretty here.” It didn’t mean I was conceited. It meant I was learning to like my own appearance, even as the weight went on. I used to just sit with myself, inside or outside, hair up or hair down, and snap photos of my own face and body with my digital camera. I saved them on my computer in a folder and instead of picking them apart, I admired them. It gave me a really good feeling to know that I was ADMIRING myself. Finally finding beauty in my appearance. (I don’t mind sharing these nutty things, as they obviously did a world of good. Haha.)

I also tried to make things a celebration instead of a meltdown, even if I had to force myself. It usually ended up transforming anyway. Prime example: When I was doing really well in recovery and I had to buy new clothes because my old ones were too small, I didn’t let it freak me out. As you know, it’s not a very good feeling to pull on pants and have them not fit. Especially if it’s not just one pair, but many pairs. It had the potential to make me panic. I had to buy a bunch of new clothes. Bigger sizes. And when I came home, I could feel the panic rising...so I called my best friend and turned what could have been a meltdown into a celebration. “I had to buy new clothes!” I yelled into the phone, happily. “A lot of my stuff was too small. I bought BIGGER sizes! I can’t believe it! It’s so amazing that I’m not wearing a size X anymore!” I was proud of myself, but I was antsy and uneasy. So I simply tried to portray the happiness I knew I should wholly be feeling. I knew I should be congratulating myself.

She was so happy to hear what I told her, and so proud of me. And obviously glad that I was at a healthier weight that I wasn’t fitting into my old clothes. So she celebrated with me. She congratulated me. We made it a good and a happy thing. I got off the phone feeling good, feeling proud of what I had done: stuck with recovery long enough to gain weight and keep it on... then not fit in my clothes, then buy NEW, BIGGER ones, then NOT freak out. It was huge.

Body image may get in the way for a while, but you don’t have to let it cause you to restrict or (insert other behavior) and head back down an unhealthy road. Work with it! If you don’t give in to it, it will pass. It will come in spurts for a while, here and there, but eventually, it will pass. You have the power to turn things around. Don’t let fear stop you.