As I mentioned in my post during National Eating Disorders Awareness Week, over half of eating disorders in the United States are diagnosed as "Eating Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified" or ED-NOS. It's a tricky thing to pin down, ED-NOS is. The manifestation of this eating disorder is as varied as its many sufferers and carries a stigma and set of problems all its own. So if I'm diagnosed with ED-NOS - what the heck does that even mean? What does it mean for my recovery? What does it mean for my access to eating disorder treatment?

One of the most frustrating things about having an eating disorder and attempting recovery is dealing with insurance companies. To be honest, I know of very few people who have had a truly positive experience with their insurance companies. This goes for all levels of eating disorder treatment: outpatient, partial hospitalization, residential, and inpatient. If you're lucky, your eating disorder treatment team will fight for you to get the insurance coverage you need. If you're not lucky, you may be doing it on your own. While I might one day do an article later about how to deal with your insurance company and fight for the eating disorder treatment you need, today is not that day. Today's post is borne out of pure frustration. Why Won't Insurance Companies Pay For Eating Disorder Treatment? Open Letter to Insurance Companies

Even considering to seek inpatient treatment for your eating disorder is a big step. On the whole, we don't like to admit how bad things have gotten. Considering inpatient or residential treatment means that you have to recognize that your behaviors, your thoughts, your eating disorder is out of control. It's nearly inconceivable at some points to think this - after all, isn't your eating disorder what gives you control? Why would we seek inpatient treatment for the eating disorder?

One of the things any good therapist or dietitian will ask you when you seek treatment for your eating disorder is, “What goals do you have for our time together?” I’ve done the treatment rodeo enough times to know that this question is coming, but I still stumble over words and fumble trying to find the “right” answer to this age-old question. To be clear, there is no “right” answer – only you can decide what things you are ready to tackle in your recovery. However, when you determine what those things are, there is a way to make effective goals that will further your recovery.

Jessica Schnaider, 41, spent eight days connected to a NG feeding tube in March. She wasn't sick. She doesn't suffer from anorexia. She isn't obese. She merely wanted to lose weight before she got married. To say I was incredulous would be an understatement.

I was sixteen and on the edge of puberty when I realized I hated my body. I hated having breasts, and the fact that people actually noticed them. I hated the fact that my stomach was round, my thighs were round, even my hair was too round. I felt awkward and ugly, and that feeling plagues me to this day as I recover from anorexia.

According to The National Center of Addiction and Substance Abuse, up to one half of those with eating disorders — including anorexia, bulimia, and binge eating disorder — abuse alcohol and/or drugs. (see Eating Disorders and Addictions) This is a dangerous combination. I didn't believe it would happen to me — until it did.

On Friday, my psychiatrist told me that a fellow eating disorders patient recently died. To say I was stunned would be an understatement.

I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified. My heart was racing and I was fighting nausea. I was still wearing the clothes I came home in the day before. I reached for my cell phone and quickly called 911. I was panicking and it was difficult for me to talk. I explained what was going on while the dispatcher tried to calm me and get me to take my pulse. Soon the paramedics and police were at my home. I was freezing as they wheeled me out to the waiting ambulance. At the hospital, I told them that I had been in an area hospital for seven days for re-feeding and detox from alcohol and prescription drugs. I noticed a slight change in their attitude as they listened. Soon, I was told that it was caused by withdrawal from benzodiazepines, or tranquilizers. The ER staff then discharged me at 1:30 a.m. I arrived home, confused and wondering if I would ever get better.

It was 3 a.m., January 1, 2012. I had been struggling to sleep for hours. All had did though was constantly shift around in my hospital bed and throw covers on and off, as my head throbbed and waves of heat flushed my face. It left me hot and then freezing cold. It was the last night of my hospital stay and I had gotten progressively sicker in the past few days. The nurses simply told me I must have the flu or something since I had a slight fever and struggled to eat — not a good thing for a recovering anorexic. I pushed the call button for the night nurse, hoping for some relief but knowing I had just taken a pain killer a few hours before and, therefore, there was nothing anyone could do. He brought me a box of tissues as I started crying and tossing around, saying "I guess this is what they call hitting rock bottom, huh?" He told me to go ahead and cry. I had been in the hospital since December 26. It has been both the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done.