Eating Disorder Recovery: One Year Later

Last month, I was traveling with family and friends and had a chance to see just how far my recovery from anorexia has come. When I went back to inpatient treatment over a year ago, I wanted to get better - to recover - but was honestly starting to doubt if it was possible. It was my third trip to treatment in as many years. It hadn't "worked" before, so why would now be any different? Even in the year since returning from treatment, it hasn't looked so great at times.

Like every other fan of John Green's best-selling book "The Fault In Our Stars," I love the line where Hazel says, "I fell in love like you fall asleep - slowly, and then all at once." That's the way recovery seems to me: you work hard day-in and day-out for so long and feel like there is no progress. Then you wake up one morning and - BAM! - recovered! (Well, not exactly like that, but you see my point, yes?)

In reality, there is progress, but it is sometimes so slight that you can't recognize it in the day-to-day. Even in the past six months, when my recovery has been the most stable it has ever been, it has seemed like there was absolutely no progress. Today's meals are practically carbon copies of yesterday's. My snacks rotate between three or four different options. Dinner still feels like a chore more often than not.

So it's really only been in the past month that I've been able to see the shifts in my attitudes and behaviors towards food, eating, and exercise. I can go for a run and not have it become some sort of race to the death. One of my regular snack options is Oreos. When dinner seems absolutely impossible and I have no desire to be in the kitchen, I go to McDonald's and get a number four.

If you had told me in January that this is where I would be now, I would have laughed at you. Heck, if you'd told me two months ago that this is where I'd be now, I would have said you were insane. That's how impossible this place seemed.

You Can Recover, Too

Honestly, four years ago when I started following eating disorder recovery blogs, I would have read the above paragraphs and thought, "Well, that's nice. For her. It will never happen for me." I always believed that the person whose blog I was reading was more intelligent, stronger, more stubborn, more gifted, more whatever than I was - and that why was s/he was able to recover.

Here's the thing, y'all - there is nothing special about me that has enabled me to get to this point in recovery. I'm smart, but I know plenty smarter. I'm strong, but I know plenty stronger. I am not at this point in my recovery because I am some sort of special case - I am at this point in my recovery because I worked for it. I decided I wanted recovery and I decided I was willing to do whatever it took to get there.

[caption id="attachment_2985" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Definitely Happier and Healthier This Year (R)"][/caption]

It has been a lot of hard work. It has meant working even (and especially) when I don't want to. It has meant redefining who I am without an eating disorder. It has meant learning new coping skills and using them. It has meant dealing with the physical and emotional side effects of refeeding and renourishing my body.

But most of all, it has meant freedom.

Jess can also be found on Google+, Facebook and Twitter.