Why I Haven’t, Won’t, and Don’t Plan on Keeping my Eating Disorder from my Little Sister.

Involving family in your recovery is probably a good idea if it is beneficial, but what if that family is your little sister who is 12 years younger than you? Is that too young to involve your sister in your eating disorder and your recovery?

I didn’t keep the fact that I have an eating disorder secret while in recovery.

My sister came with me the day I was admitted, she came to two of my family weekends, and after meals she would sometimes accompany me to the bathroom, where we would sing songs and laugh.

Why would I involve my 12 year old sister in something that could be so raw and vulnerable you might ask.

Her life currently consists of pointe, competitions, and teaching ballet to little kids.

She could very well be in my shoes in a few short years and is susceptible to also struggling with an eating disorder.

If there is the possibility that she could struggle, I want to be honest and open with her about my struggles so she can acknowledge it before it consumes her. That doesn’t mean she won’t hide it, or is sheltered from it, but knowing that it is okay to talk about it and seek help if her eating or thought process becomes disordered.

I reassure her that eating when you are hungry is great. That it is necessary to eat before and/or after practice. That there isn’t “good” or “bad” foods, that regardless if our mom eats, or what she eats, we need to eat and be okay with it. When your sister makes comments like, “Mom can eat whatever she wants, and always stays so tiny.” You know it is crucial to reinforce the thoughts that it doesn’t matter and you need to fuel your body.

Rather than silently suffering for years like I did, and denying I ever had a problem, I want her to be able to speak up, allow me to help, and attempt to nip it in the bud before it overgrows inside of her.

That is why I choose to involve my little sister in something that could be considered taboo or shameful. I want my sister to realize there is not guilt or shame in suffering, and being open with your struggles, and an eating disorder is nothing to be ashamed of or silent about.

Invalidating Before and After

 

With Eating Disorder Awareness week slowly but surely creeping up, there has been something that has really been bothering me.

 

The fucking before and after pictures.

 

I realize, that for some, they can be helpful. You can see how far people have come, the weight they have put on, etc.

 

For some though, it is a complete and total nightmare. Can we quit glamorizing the before and after pictures??! YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LOOK LIKE THOSE PICTURES TO BE WORTHY OF RECOVERY.

 

YOUR WEIGHT DOES NOT INVALIDATE YOUR NEED FOR HELP!

 

I was one of those people who saw emaciated people and wished to look like that. I wanted so badly to be tiny like “those girls”. That was also my justification for not needing treatment. “I wasn’t THAT small.” “I didn’t look like THAT.” So in my mind, it made me less worthy of recovery.

 

As if somehow, my weight had a direct correlation on the amount of pain and suffering I had gone through.

 

Those before and after pictures do nothing but add to the stigma of how you are “supposed to look”

 

Exploded Recovery

Lately, my recovery has seemed to just have exploded.

I am not saying this is a happy go lucky, I’m cured, kinda scenario.

On the contrary, I do not eat breakfast every day. I don’t eat 6x a day and track my meal plan. I haven’t measured out my food in a long time. And hell, sometimes I have a bowl of cereal for dinner.

What I am saying though, is that I no longer turn down food based on their calories or power and fear they have over me.

I have eaten cookies for breakfast, but had a salad for lunch, but those two are no longer connected in my mind. I eat what I want, when I want. If I just ate a half hour ago, and my stomach is growling, I drink some water, and pull out a larabar.

I still exercise, and the voice is still there, but it is no longer the loud screaming, jagged tooth beast demanding my every action. It is now like a snide child who hasn’t gotten it’s way and makes jabs when it can, “I mean, you did just exercise, you probably shouldn’t have breakfast.” “Or,” I’d retort back, “I have some awesome avocado toast waiting with my name on it.” It doesn’t always make the voice go away, and I don’t always make the correct choice, but I do the next right thing.

That also doesn’t mean that my body image is all rainbows and sunshine every day, but I am learning to accept my body and realize that restricting won’t do me any good, and eating one cookie won’t hurt me.

I may still turn food down, but it is because I genuinely don’t want it. Not because my Eating Disorder doesn’t want me to have it.

Do what you can, even if it means a snack! Feel free to reach out!

Young & Twenty

BEING Young & Twenty Submission • Stephanie

 

Yay!! Look guys!!! This makes me happy 🙂

 

capture7

Worth & Deserving

For the absolute longest time, I was certain that I was unworthy and undeserving- of many things:

  • Relationships
  • Recovery
  • Love
  • Compliments

I believed I was the exception, that serious complications from an eating disorder happened to others, not to me. That others deserved recovery, not me.

 

Being consumed with my inner critic and eating disorder, I fully believed that my worth was based solely on my actions and others’ opinions of me. Yet, it was always unfairly graded and weighed.

Positive that the pleasant compliments were only said to be polite, and maybe even out of pity, they held no truth to them. Yet, when someone was critical or demeaning, I held those comments as gospel and put my worth in my imperfections and short comings.

 

By listening to my inner critic and falling for the lie of being unworthy and undeserving, I was practically saying that I held no worth in who I am.

I would never say this to another person, but yet I found it acceptable to refer to myself as this.

It has taken many, many years, but I am not the exception.

Just like how my body won’t survive on carrot sticks because I want it to.

My worth isn’t based on my short comings because I think that is all I deserve.

 

In a society that thrives on perfection and believes asking for help is a weakness, we become fake to those around us.

It has become taboo to talk about struggles, we portray only the very best side of our life, feeding into the belief that we can’t measure up.

I am a huge advocate for sharing our stories. It is so easy to get caught up with our faults and mistakes and make our identity in them, but yet, I want to hear who you are.

I don’t care about the weather, your car or your job. We ALL have SOMETHING and I want to hear it. What you’ve been through, how far you’ve come, what you learned, and how it made you, you.

So instead of only showing the best side of yourself – be real.

Own your story, it is yours to tell and nobody has the power or authority to belittle it for how far you have come.

Be unapologetically you.

You are worthy of it.

I am worthy of it.

We deserve so much more.

Flaws

You are not your flaws or your short-comings.

You are not defined by what you lack, or how you do not measure up.

Neither is your body.

Your body is not its flaws.

Fat

Scars

Stretchmarks

You, and your body, are not defined by your flaws.

College and Eating Disorder

First, I wanted to apologize.

The days of class I skipped.

The days I couldn’t pay attention.

Or, the days when I would skip your class, and you would catch me running around campus walking back to your office.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was that I was just more consumed with burning calories and making my Eating Disorder happy that I didn’t want to sit in class.

I didn’t want you to take my struggle as apathy or anything like that, and for the professors that did know about my struggle, I’m thankful for all that you did.

It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to go to class, I physically didn’t have the energy to be there. I was freezing, exhausted, and all I wanted to do was go out and run this anxiety off. Running was more important to me than school, studying, or any sort of life.

Classmates would comment on how athletic I am, and how impressed they were at the distances I was running and how often I went to the gym. (Little did they know I had eaten an apple in maybe two days, and the violent shakes were from the Hydroxycut, not the coffee like I told people.) They didn’t see the girl who laid in her bed crying because of her electrolytes and her legs were locked up again, or the girl who ran to the toilet at 2 am because I had taken the laxatives too early and was up in the middle of the night.

College just seems like one big blur to me. Life was a half-hearted perfunctory routine of get up, run, go to class, run, go to work, maybe go to the gym, and start all over again.

Recently, I had the opportunity to catch up with one of my professors. I had her class during the semester that I left for treatment. We sat outside, laughed and caught up on all that we had missed. She told me that I looked happy and she was so proud of me. That, was what I needed to hear. That I didn’t disappoint her, or had somehow failed at being a “normal” college student.

She went on to say that she talks about me frequently, how I never asked for special treatment, and did continue to show up and do well in her class. The only thing I ever asked was if I could take my final early, (I was admitted on finals week).

I was honest and told her that while I was in her class I was consuming more diet pills and laxatives than actual food, she shook her head in a concerning way.

The most difficult was a male professor, only because my senior research also included a food log, which I was sure would lead to me failing my senior research if I didn’t have any data to actually document. He was very understanding, and I missed half of the following semester since I was still in treatment. Returning in March to his Biostatistics class, he was shocked and surprised to see me walk in the door. I had three tests to make up, multiple practicals, and I was determined. He was willing to work with me and said I could take an incomplete and finish the semester when I was feeling better. I told him I was supposed to graduate this semester, and I wanted to catch up.

I did, I finished school on time and graduated on time, missing half of a semester of Biostatistics, Virology, and Biochemistry.

I am very thankful to have the support I did through my academic career. Both of those professors actually wrote me letters of recommendation. They believed in me, even when I didn’t think I could.

We’ve all got something

I am a firm believer in “everyone has something” and I admire when people are open and vulnerable about their story.

I met a man at the dog park the other day and he also got his degree in biology and works in umbilical cord cells and tissues for a large company.

We talked about his two dogs who were rescues, and how he is now a grandfather because his son and wife had their first child.

He went on to tell me how him and his wife spend their winter in Arizona, but come back to Pennsylvania to take care of his mom with dementia. Through his story he maintained a good attitude and even cracked a few jokes.

His mom had refused to have any “strangers” in their house, which included nurses, therapists anyone, and in turn, every time him and his wife hired somebody, they usually lasted a couple days and then she would fire them.

He told them that the next time  she fired them, to ignore her and come back the next day.

 

My coworker, who has a smile on his face and looks out for me and invites me to lunch with them, just told me the other day that his mom had been diagnosed with cancer in January and was too tired and drained to travel for the holiday weekend.

 

Another coworker deals with his rude wife, while also taking care of his sick mother. He is probably mid fifties, and will take her to her “day camp”. My heart sinks for him when his phone continuously rings through out the day. I feel like he can’t get a breath or catch a break.

 

My high school teacher, who helped bring me closer and stronger in my faith, is unable to get pregnant, and her father shot her mom then turned the gun on himself. Even through all of this her faith is unwavering and I look up to her so much.

 

My best friend struggles with depression, and I love her more than anything.

It may be completely weird, but I love hearing about others’ stories, where they came from, and how they are managing.

 

How to Lose Weight, Get the Body of Your Dreams, Make Money, and Have Great Sex

It is EVERYWHERE……

HOW TO

……..Lose Weight!…..

…….Get Ready for Bikini Season……

…….Have Great Sex……

……Be Happy…..

…..Eat Right!…..

…..Get the Body of Your Dreams…..

You can’t get away from it.

How about “How to not tell me how the fuck to live.”

                                                      There is no “How to”, it is an answer to a question, that half of the time the public isn’t even asking.

We aren’t asking “How do we get somewhere?”, or “How do I do a headstand?”

No, these “How to’s” are nothing more than solutions to unasked questions in a way to make the general public think the way they are doing things are inadequate.

“How to Lose Weight” – We all know the answer. Every single one of us. Including children. But deep in our minds we wonder if how we are doing it is inadequate and want to know the “secret”, the “shortcut”.

I found it fascinating actually, that according to etymonline.com, how, is “practically a doublet of why.”

Capture

I’m not saying that now we should ask “Why be happy?”, but, why are we putting so much importance and emphasis on things like losing weight, and eating right. Who places these rigid, guilt-provoking, guidelines of what is “eating right”.

If you are thinking, “Yeah, but eating right is fruits, veggies, no fats, no carbs.”

Why? Who says so? The media? The industries that make millions everyday feeding off of you insecurities. Think about makeup, just in general, how much do you think that industry brings in PER DAY, working and basing their selling points solely on your facial insecurities and “HOW to look better.”

 

I need coffee. That is it for today.

But unless you genuinely don’t know the answer, stay away from the How-Tos

 

Trust the Process

xoxoxo

 

1 Corinthians 10:12

1 Corinthians 10:12

“So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”

Over the course of being in recovery, I have had the same goals.

1)      Be “normal”

2)      Find a healthy balance between working out and eating

3)      Be able to help and share with others

Some of you may read these, especially number one and think, “Come on, what even is ‘normal’, that is such a vague idea.” Others of you, I know because I have talked with others, are sitting there thinking, “Holy shit! Yes! She gets it!”  I’m not saying I want a job, a husband, a dog, a house with a picket fence, 2.5 kids. I already have two of those… I’ll let you guess 😉

What I am saying is I want to eat like a normal person, eat when I’m hungry, eat when I’m not hungry, put cheese on food, not count calories like a fiend. Eat cold pizza for breakfast, have hot chocolate, you know, what NORMAL people would do, and not think twice about.

While I am so thankful that I am not where I was, I know I have work to be where I want to be. (Even though you guys can’t see it, I’m finishing up a tofu taco salad- delish!) I still struggle with the morbid sense of wanting to be sick, and wanting to be back in treatment. At the same time, lately I have been able to take a step back and realize, “ok, I’ve been there before. Nothing will be different, so why do I want to go back?”

At this point in my life, I am 23 years old. Living in Pennsylvania, by myself, moving from NC to PA after graduation to pursue my career in Biochemistry. I feel fortunate to have a career with benefits, PTO, and in a field where I have my degree. So why would I want to throw that all away to go back to being weighed everyday?

I have made friends going to the support group, and through that I have had lunch, and gotten coffee, with some of the girls. It is eye opening that at times, I am the oldest one in the group, and I am not ok with this. I do not want to be tied down by this thing. Recently, I have reached out, getting to know some of the girls, and I want to be a support for them to reach out to.

I have been reminded of this verse lately, “So if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall.” This is huge to me. I don’t want to reach out to help, if it may completely undo the progress I have built. I want to help and pull others up without worrying about being triggered or being dragged down. I pray this a lot, especially when I hang out with the girls, hoping for the best, for the right words to say and to remember to be careful.

 

Trust the Process!

xoxoxo