Alcott Unit

I never thought I would find myself in a locked inpatient unit in a private hospital in a town in Massachusetts I had never previously heard of. I found myself there in late October 2012. I checked myself in, I fought my insurance to be on A LOCKED UNIT two hours from all of the people I knew and loved. I was ready to fight for my life, though I had no idea what that actually meant.

I must admit, the drive to Walden was actually one of the best I’ve ever had. I recruited my willing boyfriend to be my driver and we listened to our favorite music for two and a half hours on the highway. It was peaceful. It was peaceful until we pulled into the parking lot and I immediately broke into tears. I was afraid to go in. I did not want to wheel in my luggage and say goodbye to my love, or loves. I knew that by walking into that building, I was saying goodbye to my best friend, my worst enemy, my confidant, and my secret all rolled up in one. I was saying goodbye to my eating disorder. 

My eating disorder and I had been in a steady and committed relationship for ten years the day I walked through the cold metal double doors of Alcott Unit. My eating disorder was everything to me. I would rather stay at home alone and starve then see me friends, go to class, love my boyfriend. I was a slave to my eating disorder for ten years.

It started out small, purging after a few meals, really hating on myself each time I passed a mirror; but as the years when on, it escalated. I began to binge, purge, restrict, and abuse diet pills, water pills, laxatives, and the like, all to aid my eating disorder. I even tried turning to drugs to quiet the self-hating person I had become, but even they could not hold my interest like my eating disorder. I would rather be hungry, light-headed, and alone, then loved and having just had a meal. Really I cannot put into words how stuck I was on my eating disorder.

Despite being so stuck, I knew something had to change. I had so many dreams for myself as a young girl, and I began to notice that, as a young woman, I wasn’t achieving any of them. I knew I had to make a change. Thus, I checked myself into the hospital. (Actually it wasn’t as easy as just checking myself in, but for the sake of the story, we’ll say it was.)

I stayed inpatient that last time for only seven days, but it was the most healing seven days of my life. I struggled to put on weight at first, but I held fast, I did not give up (though mentally I wanted to). I ate 100% of all of my meals while I was inpatient in Alcott. I decided when I checked in that I was going to eat my meals despite the pain. I knew that if I needed it, nurses and doctors, clinicians and my loved ones were there to support me. 

Through each meal plan increase, I pushed forward. I don’t know what it was that gave me the strength to fight, I honestly never knew that I even had any. Through 5 a.m. vitals, supervised bathroom trips, timed meals, and therapeutic groups, I got better. I left Alcott still sick, still underweight, still fighting for my life, but I left a different woman. I had strength, I had new skills, I could fight this disease. And I did. And I still am, in different ways.

Through my survival, rehabilitation, and recovery, I have grown into a woman (both physically and emotionally) and am back on track with my life. I’m in love more than ever with myself. Huh, never thought I’d be able to write that. My next goal is to believe it. 

I haven't posted in such a long time. Here is something that has been on my mind.

Before going inpatient I wrote a list of my reasons to recover. I would like to share that list with you now.

• Because hating myself is exhausting.
• For all the things I haven’t done.
• Because I would never wish this pain upon someone else.
• To be able to achieve my dreams.
• To go to a restaurant and order impulsively without studying the menu for days beforehand.
• To be free.
• To feel complete.
• Because I am stronger than my eating disorder.
• Because life is fuller when I am full.
• Because the fridge isn’t a battlefield and food is not the enemy.
• To be able to go to a party and not cry about what I ate there.
• Because birthday cake should be a celebration, not a mental breakdown.
• So I can love myself as much as others love me.

I have been out of treatment since January 2013, and while every day is an uphill battle and recovery is a lifelong process, I am indescribably happy to be where I am in this moment. I never thought I would be able to change the tapes that played in my mind for so many years, telling me I was never going to be good enough, that I was fat, ugly, and that no one would ever love me.

I was so wrong for so many years. I see the light, I am now on the greener grass I always dreamed of. I did this, but not without the help of my loving family, close friends, and Walden Behavioral Care.I wish this for you all: that you can wake up and know what it is like to be free of your eating disorder, or whatever has its grips on you. Life is so much richer when you let yourself out of the shadows and into the light. Here's to recovery and all of its splendor. L'chaim! If this moves you, please feel free to share it. I am proud of my journey.

Dark

Eighteen hours of darkness
The highest suicide rate
One would think that the Swedes would see beauty in the night
There is more to the dark than meets the eye
Or what doesn't meet the eye, I suppose
It's so dark, one cannot see

Darkness means not death
But rest
Break for a new day
A new beginning
Those 18 hours of dark are an offering from the skies
A gift full of sleep
Full of passion

Imaginations cultivate under to moonlight sky
I much prefer it that way

The still, the quiet, the tranquility of dusk sets my mind apart from all else
Apart from the pain
Offers a distraction from the food, the abuse, the hurt

The best judgement comes in the night
Evening uncovers the finest of crowds
Surrounded by the cold blanket of the dark sky

If I were to have eighteen hours of darkness, I'd not commit
But I'd live every moment more than ever before

Darkness inspires
Darkness constructs and crafts

Enjoy the mysteries of the night
The gifts of the darkness

For darkness is the light
For darkness is the essence of all creation, of all man-kind

Dark

After a long absence

I haven't written in a while and I'm sure you can guess why. I have completely relapsed, to the deepest depths of my eating disorder. Lower than I ever thought possible.

I am writing tonight because something amazing is about to happen to jolt me back into my safe world of recovery. A social worker at Walden believes that I qualify for inpatient care. For many, this is a point of major distress; but not for me. I don't know exactly what brought me to this scary point, but I know that I absolutely want out.

For the past two months, I have been in a Partial Hospitalization Program in Hartford, Connecticut. As all eating disorder programs, you only get what you put in. Not to say that I didn't learn some valuable lessons from the Institute. I took away from the program, a new understanding of nutrition and the value of food; but I did not learn how to stop myself from engaging in behaviors.

Upon my discharge, I took upon myself to seek a higher level of care. Once this hurricane lets up, I hope to be safe in Massachusetts, learning how to rid myself of this horrible illness.

I do not want to die. I do want to recover. I just need more support to get myself there.

Please don't lose hope. There is fight left in all of us. I know we can do this.

I just want to beat my eating disorder once and for all

Like nothing I've ever wanted before

I just want this fight to be over

... And I want to win

And did I mention that I'm very competitive?

NEDA Week Begins!

Today begins National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) Awareness Week! This week is filled with activities, seminars, and walks all over the country fighting to raise awareness and funding for eating disorders. While I am doing my part this week, the only thing on my mind will be the future: my future and the future of every other person struggling with this horrific illness.

What we have been through will not be in vain. Someday, funding for eating disorder research will be equal to or greater than the highest funded illness, to reflect the fact that eating disorders have the highest mortality rate. Someday, jokes about eating disorders will not be spoken in conversation or at parties because people will finally understand the severity of these illnesses.

What we have been through, my friends with eating disorders, has not been in vain. Someday we will ALL recover, we will all be free of the shackles, strong enough to fight Ed's voice every single day of our lives, and most important, we will dedicate our lives to raising awareness and helping others, those we love and maybe even strangers, fight this illness until it is gone forever.

xoxo A friend in the fight

Still on Ed's terms

Last night Ben sent me a text:

I don't care what we do tomorrow (Valentine's Day), as long as you know how beautiful I think you are.

My body image has left something to be desired lately. It comes and goes in waves, I'm sure some of you can relate. I've been behavior free for 15 months but I still have days, if not weeks sometimes, where I fear getting out of bed and letting the world see my face, my body.

It's like I'm at odds with myself these days. I'm so recovered in the sense that I never even consider purging, restricting, or any of my other old behaviors; but I feel as though lately, being "recovered" is not enough. Will I ever reach a day when instead of considering myself recovered, I simply don't consider myself in the terms of my eating disorder at all? 

This is a scary concept, but one I may want to welcome into my life someday.

On the one hand, I feel a strong attachment to the battle that I fought for so many years to beat Bulimia, and with that attachment comes one to my sisters in the fight, the ones I know and the ones I don't. If you aren't one of us, you may not understand the deep connection we have to one another. My friends who have battled eating disorders are some of the most important people in the world to me, and we hardly ever see each other. It's a deep, almost spiritual connection that binds us together. We know what each other went through, on a level no "normal" person could ever understand.

On the other hand, I want to close the door on this part of my life. I want to forget so much of the years I was clouded by this illness. I did some horrible things to myself, to my family, my friends. During the time I was in the grips of Ed, I did irreversible damage to relationships and to my own psyche.

Just last week I was driving home and I caught myself thinking about some of the unspeakable things I did during my worst years. I had this thought that I would pay any amount of money to be hypnotized to forget any of it ever happened. Sometimes I cannot bare to think of the things Ed made me do. It's horrifying.

Just when I thought I was done being "at a crossroads", I find myself heading down a new path. Maybe I won't forget about my eating disorder, but one day, I hope to really put it all behind me.