First, I just want to say that I have been so overwhelmed (in a very good way!) by the responses I've received from so many of you over the past week. Thank you so much for reading and sharing my posts! I honestly don't have words for how much it's meant to me.
I've been thinking a lot about what I wanted to write about next, and given some of the responses and questions I've recieved in regards to my last post ("You Just Have to Want it More..") I thought I'd dedicate this post to explaining more about the role that I do believe motivation to change has in recovery.
I wanted to clarify that while I don't think anyone can simply "choose to recover", or want to recover enough to somehow eliminate the struggle, I do think we have choices to make on a daily basis, that will either move us towards the life we want to be living or further into the eating disorder. I know that I made a comparison to cancer in my last post - and while I felt like it was relevant in that specific context, I usually hate when people compare eating disorders to cancer - because it truly isn't the same. I don't beleive that anyone with an eating disorder is "terminally ill" or "chronic" (although I've been referred to as both by numerous 'professionals'), I believe that anyone, with the proper support and treatment, can achieve at least some degree of recovery. You're never completely powerless over your situation in the way that someone with cancer is. Even when I couldn't 'want it enough' to be able to eat, I chose to pick up the phone and call the treatment center. I chose to pack up my bags and go to the airport. I chose not to give up on myself. You always, no matter how sick you are, have the choice. Once I got to treatment I was faced with a million more choices. (per hour) Every meal, every snack, every second in-between. And it was excruciatingly difficult, because everything in my head would be screaming at me that it was none okay/that I couldn't do it/that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I put X, Y, or Z in my body, and I knew that if I didn't eat I could make all of it quiet down, but if I chose to keep eating it was just going to get louder/worse. I felt like I was torturing myself. The best way I can think to describe what it felt like to know that the eating disorder would take away everything I was feeling but to continue choosing recovery anyways is to compare it to what I imagine it would feel like to be drowning and to have a life preserver less than an arm's length away from you but to choose not to grab onto it. It was awful, but I chose to keep going anyways. I had moments where it really did get to me too much, and I felt like I couldn't make the choice, and I would resort back to the eating disorder - skip a meal/refuse to drink my boost etc. - but I chose to go back into the next meal and try again. I didn't give up.
And since I've been home the choices have multiplied. I'm no longer just called into the 'Colorado Cafe' to sit at a tray that's already been prepared for me. (which was not an easy task in and of itself) Now I have to make the decision of whether or not to eat while knowing that I could very easily not/that no one would know etc., and I have to decide what to eat, and how much to eat etc. etc. It's complicated. And the eating disorder is so, so simple. It's hard.
But I know that while the eating disorder does give that temporary relief, it is just that, temporary. In the end it only leads to misery. My friend, Danielle, who has been my best and most faithful supporter through all of this, gave me the following advice when I was in treatment, and it's something that I've really held onto in the months I've been home; "Yes, you're miserable now. But you were miserable then too. At least with this miserable, there's a chance that it won't always be miserable, or atleast not as miserable. The eating disorder will never be anything but miserable, and you and I know it only gets more and more miserable the longer you stay in it. Give this miserable a chance." And really, I think that's what it comes down to. Recovery isn't the exciting journey of self-exploration and discovery that I think it's often portrayed as. It's not "embracing your quirks" and "loving your genes" etc. It's eating and freaking out and hating yourself for eating and hating yourself for freaking out about eating (and essentially just hating everything) but continuing to choose to do it anyways because you know that you want more than what the eating disorder has to offer and you're willing to fight for it.
I don't believe that you can want to get better enough to make the process any easier. And it sucks, because it doesn't make any sense that you could want to get better and still hate yourself for eating, but as I explained in my last post, nothing about an eating disorder is logical, and I think part of recovery (atleast for me) has included coming to terms with that. I'm never going to make sense of the way my brain works. And wanting to make it work differently, unfortunately, isn't going to do anything. I can (and you can!) still choose to do what will move you forward in recovery even while it's screaming at you. And I can attest to the fact that while my brain is definitely not my best friend most of the time and I still struggle quite a bit, the act of choosing recovery over the eating disorder has gotten easier with time. I no longer debate with myself for hours over whether or not to eat breakfast in the morning, it's just what I do, sort of like showering or brushing my teeth. Over all, I'm okay. And there are so many things that I can do now that I wouldn't have been able to do before. I can hold a job, I can get to know my co-workers without them needing to know that I ever struggled, I can sit in the kitchen and eat dinner with my family (versus sitting on the roof crying because I thought the calories from their dinner had gotten into the air in my bedroom...), I can go to the mall with my sister, I can go out with friends, I can think about things other than germs and calories and dying. And that makes choosing recovery worth it, even when it feels miserable.
So, to sum it up - you do have to want it. You have to want it enough to make the painful choices that will move you towards it even when everything in you is screaming at you and telling you not to. You can't want it enough to make it go away, but you aren't powerless either, and you never will be.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
"You Just Have to Want it More..."
"You just have to want it more, Rachel."
If I had a penny for every time someone has said the above statement to me Bill Gates would be in some serious competition.
One of the misunderstandings around eating disorders that frustrates me the most is the idea that someone who is struggling just needs to "want to get better" and that if they "wanted it enough" they could stop using behaviors, the urges would dissipate, and they'd be able to move on with life. And while I understand how, to someone who has not personally experienced an eating disorder, it would be easy to see it that way (and hard to see it any differently), I know that for myself and for some of my closest friends who have also struggled, it definitely hasn't worked that way.
While there is definitely an element of choice in recovery (and in the eating disorder) at a certain point, when someone is very sick, they lose the ability to make those choices. The eating disorder literally becomes paralyzing, and as much as you might want to "get better", you can't bring yourself to do the things that you know intellectually you need to do, even if you want to do them.
At the end of this last year, when things for me were at the worst that they ever have been, my mom would ask me almost daily to "Please try. Please don't give up. Please eat something.", and I remember thinking like, I wish I could. I didn't know how to explain that to her, because I really couldn't understand it myself either. How could I hate my eating disorder so much, and want recovery so badly, and still be so stuck? How could I be terrified of dying and simultaneously not able to break my 300 calorie/day limit? It didn't make sense. When I would try to tell her that I couldn't, that I was just going to die and to please give up on me, she would tell me that it didn't have to be like that - that this wasn't cancer, I had a choice! I could choose to fight! And like, I understand how technically, yes. I mean, I was starving to death in a house well-stocked with food. But I remember just thinking that at that point it might has well have been cancer, because I really just couldn't eat. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.
I think one of the hardest things for me, and for most people - to understand/accept is that really and truly nothing about an eating disorder makes sense, or is logical. People forget that these aren't choices or lifestyles, that an eating disorder is a crippling mental illness. I don't think anyone with schizophrenia really wants to hear or see things, but wanting not to isn't enough to make the voices or images go away. You can't want a mental illness away. You can want recovery and still be to stuck or sick to make the choices needed to achieve recovery.
I think a lot of it can be chalked up to the biological effect of starvation on the brain. I know for me personally, the lower my weight got and the longer I went without really eating, the more paralyzing the eating disorder felt. I wanted things to be different, yes - but I was still too afraid to leave my bedroom because I thought I'd inhale calories from my family's food. I felt like my brain was broken, and in some ways it really was. I couldn't think. I was afraid of everything. And the fear felt too real and too paralyzing for me to even consider trying to move past it. And also I know that with each year that I continued to struggle, the eating disorder continued to become stronger. Things that wouldn't have been a big deal for me at the onset of my illness felt impossible to me a year later, and then those things felt impossible the next year etc. etc. As the eating disorder grew my world shrank, and my ability to choose recovery shrank, until I really just felt very powerless and out of control.
When I did make it to treatment, my doctor had to put me on a certification for involuntary treatment and involuntary tube feedings, because even though I wanted to be there and wanted to get better, and even though I was trying, I had continued to lose weight during my first week and was still restricting several times a day. I remember sitting in her office crying hysterically and begging her not to do it, promising that I would eat everything from there on out/to please just give me one more chance etc. and she just shook her head and said, "Rachel, I really believe that you want to be able to do this. I do. But right now you're just too sick, and I need to step in and help you." And looking back, I literally owe that woman my life. Because as much as I wanted to do it, I really just couldn't at that point. As I began eating and restoring weight I did become more and more able to make those decisions for myself (and eventually she dropped the cert and I became a voluntary patient), and at this point in my recovery I do feel that I have to make a conscious choice at each meal and snack. What do I really want to do right now? Do I want to do what is comfortable, or what will move me towards what I value? But that ability has come in little bits over a lot of time, and a lot of work (and a lot of weight) and through people initially taking the "choice" away from me.
There have been many times in previous treatments where I had been written off as "non-compliant" or "difficult"/"chronic"/"doesn't want recovery", and I was told that if I didn't want help I wasn't going to get better/I was just wasting everyone's time. And looking back it just makes me so sad, because all I needed at the time was for someone to recognize that I was just really scared and really sick, that I wasn't "playing games" or "being manipulative", and no one was able to do that. I understand that it would be difficult for someone who hasn't struggled, because as I said before there is truly nothing about an eating disorder that makes any sort of logical sense, but the truth of the matter is that the girl who is draining her tube feeds at night and hiding sandwiches in her sweatshirt pockets may really want to get better. She could probably list you off numerous things she wants more than the eating disorder - school, friends, good relationships within her family etc. - and she probably really hates the eating disorder and how it keeps her from those things - but she's sick, and so she'll still do those things anyways.
I've followed a handful of treatment centers and eating disorder organizations on both facebook and twitter, and I feel like when they aren't posting about being brave enough to wear a bikini or photoshop, they're posting "motivating" quotes that, I suppose, are meant to empower the reader. But when someone is really sick, it just doesn't work that way. You can't "motivate" someone out of it. Asking someone who is starving to death if they'll be proud of the choices they made today a year from now isn't really going to help. (I remember seeing a quote like that in December "Make a choice today that your future self will thank you for!" and just thinking that I probably only had a week or so left, and I still couldn't bring myself to eat, and that there would be no future self.) I think that what so many people forget is that eating disorders aren't something that the person suffering chooses - that they are an illness - and that in the same way no one chooses to get sick, you can't just "choose" to get better, and you can't simply want it enough to make it happen. It's hard, I think, for people to recognize that, I think largely due to the fact that the organizations that are raising "awareness" are spreading the misconception that eating disorders are essentially just diets taken too far (and therefore a choice), but also because eating disorders manifest differently from other mental illnesses, therefore people forget that they are mental illnesses. I remember being on a general psych unit when I was younger, and there was a little boy there who legitimately believed that he was a glass of orange juice, and he was afraid that if anyone touched him he would "spill", and he wouldn't take showers because he thought he would "overflow". There was another woman who referred to herself as "Claudette and company" and she thought that there were 52 people living inside of her. She would constantly talk to people who weren't there, and she would eat paper and clothes and other things that were definitely not meant to be eaten. And like, when I think of the term "mentally ill" those are the people I think of. And I think that's kind of what most people jump to as well. On the other hand, most all of the girls I've known who have struggled eating disorders have been incredibly thoughtful, intelligent, talented, high-achieving people. And I think it's just harder for people to understand and recognize that the person struggling, who may have so much insight in other areas of life and "so much potential!" (I have grown to really, really despise those three words), is sick, and not just deliberately choosing to do everything that they probably feel very trapped in. It's a lot easier for someone to look at someone like "Claudette and company" and realize that she was mentally ill, that obviously no one chooses to live their life that way.
One more thing that I want to touch on before I end this (sorry, I know this post is getting a bit lengthy, I just feel that there's a lot to say on this topic) is that I think a lot of people don't understand that you can want recovery and still be terrified of it. And that might be something that, if you haven't struggled personally, could feel really difficult to understand. (Honestly, it is still difficult for me to understand) There is nothing wrong with you if you still want certain aspects of the eating disorder, or if you don't feel like you're able to "make yourself want recovery more". I have really, really struggled with that, but in reality that's just not how this disease works. There is no such thing as "wanting it enough" to make it happen.
I know it is no small feat, but try to give yourself some compassion for wherever you are in your journey, and try to extend that compassion to others too. I know it can be really hard to see someone sick and struggling and to not see it as a choice that they're making/to not want to shake them and somehow "make them want recovery enough", but try to remember that the person struggling is undoubtedly already in a lot of pain, and most likely feels a lot of shame around their struggle. They need patience, understanding, and again, compassion - not judgment.
If I had a penny for every time someone has said the above statement to me Bill Gates would be in some serious competition.
One of the misunderstandings around eating disorders that frustrates me the most is the idea that someone who is struggling just needs to "want to get better" and that if they "wanted it enough" they could stop using behaviors, the urges would dissipate, and they'd be able to move on with life. And while I understand how, to someone who has not personally experienced an eating disorder, it would be easy to see it that way (and hard to see it any differently), I know that for myself and for some of my closest friends who have also struggled, it definitely hasn't worked that way.
While there is definitely an element of choice in recovery (and in the eating disorder) at a certain point, when someone is very sick, they lose the ability to make those choices. The eating disorder literally becomes paralyzing, and as much as you might want to "get better", you can't bring yourself to do the things that you know intellectually you need to do, even if you want to do them.
At the end of this last year, when things for me were at the worst that they ever have been, my mom would ask me almost daily to "Please try. Please don't give up. Please eat something.", and I remember thinking like, I wish I could. I didn't know how to explain that to her, because I really couldn't understand it myself either. How could I hate my eating disorder so much, and want recovery so badly, and still be so stuck? How could I be terrified of dying and simultaneously not able to break my 300 calorie/day limit? It didn't make sense. When I would try to tell her that I couldn't, that I was just going to die and to please give up on me, she would tell me that it didn't have to be like that - that this wasn't cancer, I had a choice! I could choose to fight! And like, I understand how technically, yes. I mean, I was starving to death in a house well-stocked with food. But I remember just thinking that at that point it might has well have been cancer, because I really just couldn't eat. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.
I think one of the hardest things for me, and for most people - to understand/accept is that really and truly nothing about an eating disorder makes sense, or is logical. People forget that these aren't choices or lifestyles, that an eating disorder is a crippling mental illness. I don't think anyone with schizophrenia really wants to hear or see things, but wanting not to isn't enough to make the voices or images go away. You can't want a mental illness away. You can want recovery and still be to stuck or sick to make the choices needed to achieve recovery.
I think a lot of it can be chalked up to the biological effect of starvation on the brain. I know for me personally, the lower my weight got and the longer I went without really eating, the more paralyzing the eating disorder felt. I wanted things to be different, yes - but I was still too afraid to leave my bedroom because I thought I'd inhale calories from my family's food. I felt like my brain was broken, and in some ways it really was. I couldn't think. I was afraid of everything. And the fear felt too real and too paralyzing for me to even consider trying to move past it. And also I know that with each year that I continued to struggle, the eating disorder continued to become stronger. Things that wouldn't have been a big deal for me at the onset of my illness felt impossible to me a year later, and then those things felt impossible the next year etc. etc. As the eating disorder grew my world shrank, and my ability to choose recovery shrank, until I really just felt very powerless and out of control.
When I did make it to treatment, my doctor had to put me on a certification for involuntary treatment and involuntary tube feedings, because even though I wanted to be there and wanted to get better, and even though I was trying, I had continued to lose weight during my first week and was still restricting several times a day. I remember sitting in her office crying hysterically and begging her not to do it, promising that I would eat everything from there on out/to please just give me one more chance etc. and she just shook her head and said, "Rachel, I really believe that you want to be able to do this. I do. But right now you're just too sick, and I need to step in and help you." And looking back, I literally owe that woman my life. Because as much as I wanted to do it, I really just couldn't at that point. As I began eating and restoring weight I did become more and more able to make those decisions for myself (and eventually she dropped the cert and I became a voluntary patient), and at this point in my recovery I do feel that I have to make a conscious choice at each meal and snack. What do I really want to do right now? Do I want to do what is comfortable, or what will move me towards what I value? But that ability has come in little bits over a lot of time, and a lot of work (and a lot of weight) and through people initially taking the "choice" away from me.
There have been many times in previous treatments where I had been written off as "non-compliant" or "difficult"/"chronic"/"doesn't want recovery", and I was told that if I didn't want help I wasn't going to get better/I was just wasting everyone's time. And looking back it just makes me so sad, because all I needed at the time was for someone to recognize that I was just really scared and really sick, that I wasn't "playing games" or "being manipulative", and no one was able to do that. I understand that it would be difficult for someone who hasn't struggled, because as I said before there is truly nothing about an eating disorder that makes any sort of logical sense, but the truth of the matter is that the girl who is draining her tube feeds at night and hiding sandwiches in her sweatshirt pockets may really want to get better. She could probably list you off numerous things she wants more than the eating disorder - school, friends, good relationships within her family etc. - and she probably really hates the eating disorder and how it keeps her from those things - but she's sick, and so she'll still do those things anyways.
I've followed a handful of treatment centers and eating disorder organizations on both facebook and twitter, and I feel like when they aren't posting about being brave enough to wear a bikini or photoshop, they're posting "motivating" quotes that, I suppose, are meant to empower the reader. But when someone is really sick, it just doesn't work that way. You can't "motivate" someone out of it. Asking someone who is starving to death if they'll be proud of the choices they made today a year from now isn't really going to help. (I remember seeing a quote like that in December "Make a choice today that your future self will thank you for!" and just thinking that I probably only had a week or so left, and I still couldn't bring myself to eat, and that there would be no future self.) I think that what so many people forget is that eating disorders aren't something that the person suffering chooses - that they are an illness - and that in the same way no one chooses to get sick, you can't just "choose" to get better, and you can't simply want it enough to make it happen. It's hard, I think, for people to recognize that, I think largely due to the fact that the organizations that are raising "awareness" are spreading the misconception that eating disorders are essentially just diets taken too far (and therefore a choice), but also because eating disorders manifest differently from other mental illnesses, therefore people forget that they are mental illnesses. I remember being on a general psych unit when I was younger, and there was a little boy there who legitimately believed that he was a glass of orange juice, and he was afraid that if anyone touched him he would "spill", and he wouldn't take showers because he thought he would "overflow". There was another woman who referred to herself as "Claudette and company" and she thought that there were 52 people living inside of her. She would constantly talk to people who weren't there, and she would eat paper and clothes and other things that were definitely not meant to be eaten. And like, when I think of the term "mentally ill" those are the people I think of. And I think that's kind of what most people jump to as well. On the other hand, most all of the girls I've known who have struggled eating disorders have been incredibly thoughtful, intelligent, talented, high-achieving people. And I think it's just harder for people to understand and recognize that the person struggling, who may have so much insight in other areas of life and "so much potential!" (I have grown to really, really despise those three words), is sick, and not just deliberately choosing to do everything that they probably feel very trapped in. It's a lot easier for someone to look at someone like "Claudette and company" and realize that she was mentally ill, that obviously no one chooses to live their life that way.
One more thing that I want to touch on before I end this (sorry, I know this post is getting a bit lengthy, I just feel that there's a lot to say on this topic) is that I think a lot of people don't understand that you can want recovery and still be terrified of it. And that might be something that, if you haven't struggled personally, could feel really difficult to understand. (Honestly, it is still difficult for me to understand) There is nothing wrong with you if you still want certain aspects of the eating disorder, or if you don't feel like you're able to "make yourself want recovery more". I have really, really struggled with that, but in reality that's just not how this disease works. There is no such thing as "wanting it enough" to make it happen.
I know it is no small feat, but try to give yourself some compassion for wherever you are in your journey, and try to extend that compassion to others too. I know it can be really hard to see someone sick and struggling and to not see it as a choice that they're making/to not want to shake them and somehow "make them want recovery enough", but try to remember that the person struggling is undoubtedly already in a lot of pain, and most likely feels a lot of shame around their struggle. They need patience, understanding, and again, compassion - not judgment.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
"Collateral Damage from our Culture of Thinness"??
There are so many things that I want to write about on here and I wasn't sure what I wanted to focus my first "real" post on, but when I stumbled across a tweet from Monte Nido this afternoon referring to eating disorders as "collateral damage from our culture of thinness" (and almost threw my laptop across the room) I decided that was where I needed to start.
I feel that one of the biggest misconceptions surrounding eating disorders is that they are rooted in poor body image or a desire to be thin and beautiful. There are millions of people in our society who aren't happy with their bodies, people who want to lose weight and go on diets etc., and while I do think that might be a result of "our culture of thinness", it is so completely different from the struggle of having an eating disorder that the two really can't be lumped together. Sure, most people with eating disorder don't like their bodies, but body dissatisfaction in and of itself is NOT an eating disorder. So many fingers are pointed at our society - for the airbrushed models in magazines, countless ads and commercials promoting weight loss and fitness - but those things (while I personally find them annoying) can't cause someone to develop a life-threatening illness. If they did, everyone in the United States would have an eating disorder! There is so, so much more to it than that.
And yet that's all anyone is talking about. About a month ago I wrote an article about my experience with the National Eating Disorder's Association (NEDA) and some research I had done on the organization, and I submitted it to the Huffington Post in hopes of having it published. It never was, which was kind of disappointing, but led me to start paying more attention to what was being posted.
These are some of the articles I came across:
"Does Girl's Focus on Thigh-Gaps Lead to Eating Disorders?" (I wish I was kidding, but that was actually a real article in the Columbia Tribune)
"The Thin Issue"
"J-Crew's New Size 000 Promotes Anorexia"
"I wore a Bikini and Nothing Happened!"
"Addressing the Beauty Madness"
"The Dangerous Pressure to be Thin"
"Colbie Calliat's New Music Video is a Great Recovery Inspiration!" (I watched the video. Basically she rips off her fake eyelashes and takes out her hair extensions/messes her hair up a bit, and talks about how 'you don't have to try so hard' to make people like you...yeah.)
...and that's only a small handful of them. Unfortunately, most of the articles were posted by well-known eating disorder treatment centers or professionals - which leads me to the conclusion that the majority of the people who claim to be treating eating disorders don't really understand what they are treating. (a rather frightening concept) How can you help someone recover from something when you don't really know what it is they're struggling with?
And yet how can we expect anyone to understand eating disorders when this (the media, body dissatisfaction, body acceptance etc.) is all that is talked about? The organizations that are supposedly spreading "awareness" are talking about Miss America's BMI and how many inches the editors of Cosmopolitan electronically removed from Beyoncé's thighs. And I get that that's easier. Having lived with the reality of an eating disorder for over 12 years now, I can completely understand not wanting to talk about it. It's much easier to focus on the media and how J-Crew is promoting Anorexia than it is to talk about all of the people who will die each year because they are unable to access the treatment they need, or all of the families that are torn apart through years of struggle, or all of the sufferers who will eventually give up and turn to suicide because the disorder has made their lives so miserable that they're unable to keep going. But that's what's real.
Reality is that I almost died last year. That my doctors were advising my mother to look into hospice care, to see a grief counselor, that I wrapped everyone's presents early because I didn't think I'd be around at Christmas, that I slept with goodbye letters under my pillow every night "just incase" I didn't wake up, that I was terrified of dying and yet unable to bring myself to eat more than 300 calories a day, that I wouldn't leave my room for months because I thought I would "inhale" calories if I was anywhere near food.
I definitely wasn't thinking about how I would have looked in a bikini, or whether or not I had a thigh gap, or what size jeans I would wear at J-Crew. I was thinking about whether or not I could have breathed in calories from the meal my family had eaten downstairs/if the calories could "get in" from under my door. I was thinking about what people would say at my funeral/if my family would be sad. I was focused on trying make it through each day on my small allotment of plain oatmeal and applesauce. I really, truly could not have cared less about those other things. It wasn't about that. It never was.
My eating disorder definitely did not begin because I wanted a 'thigh gap' or a 'bikini body'. It wasn't "collateral damage from our culture of thinness". And to see the disorder that consumed over half of my life compared to false eyelashes and hair extensions is, quite honestly, infuriating. We don't need more awareness that our society places a strong emphasis on physical appearance, or that there is pressure to look a certain way. Not only is it completely unrelated to eating disorders, but I think everyone is already well aware of it. What we need are people who are willing to speak to the true experience of an eating disorder, even if it's painful and complicated. I think that if more people were able to recognize that eating disorders are serious, life-threatening psychological disorders, and not just quests for thinness and beauty, there would be much less shame around struggling, and more ability for those in the position of treating the sufferer to offer real help and support.
I feel that one of the biggest misconceptions surrounding eating disorders is that they are rooted in poor body image or a desire to be thin and beautiful. There are millions of people in our society who aren't happy with their bodies, people who want to lose weight and go on diets etc., and while I do think that might be a result of "our culture of thinness", it is so completely different from the struggle of having an eating disorder that the two really can't be lumped together. Sure, most people with eating disorder don't like their bodies, but body dissatisfaction in and of itself is NOT an eating disorder. So many fingers are pointed at our society - for the airbrushed models in magazines, countless ads and commercials promoting weight loss and fitness - but those things (while I personally find them annoying) can't cause someone to develop a life-threatening illness. If they did, everyone in the United States would have an eating disorder! There is so, so much more to it than that.
And yet that's all anyone is talking about. About a month ago I wrote an article about my experience with the National Eating Disorder's Association (NEDA) and some research I had done on the organization, and I submitted it to the Huffington Post in hopes of having it published. It never was, which was kind of disappointing, but led me to start paying more attention to what was being posted.
These are some of the articles I came across:
"Does Girl's Focus on Thigh-Gaps Lead to Eating Disorders?" (I wish I was kidding, but that was actually a real article in the Columbia Tribune)
"The Thin Issue"
"J-Crew's New Size 000 Promotes Anorexia"
"I wore a Bikini and Nothing Happened!"
"Addressing the Beauty Madness"
"The Dangerous Pressure to be Thin"
"Colbie Calliat's New Music Video is a Great Recovery Inspiration!" (I watched the video. Basically she rips off her fake eyelashes and takes out her hair extensions/messes her hair up a bit, and talks about how 'you don't have to try so hard' to make people like you...yeah.)
...and that's only a small handful of them. Unfortunately, most of the articles were posted by well-known eating disorder treatment centers or professionals - which leads me to the conclusion that the majority of the people who claim to be treating eating disorders don't really understand what they are treating. (a rather frightening concept) How can you help someone recover from something when you don't really know what it is they're struggling with?
And yet how can we expect anyone to understand eating disorders when this (the media, body dissatisfaction, body acceptance etc.) is all that is talked about? The organizations that are supposedly spreading "awareness" are talking about Miss America's BMI and how many inches the editors of Cosmopolitan electronically removed from Beyoncé's thighs. And I get that that's easier. Having lived with the reality of an eating disorder for over 12 years now, I can completely understand not wanting to talk about it. It's much easier to focus on the media and how J-Crew is promoting Anorexia than it is to talk about all of the people who will die each year because they are unable to access the treatment they need, or all of the families that are torn apart through years of struggle, or all of the sufferers who will eventually give up and turn to suicide because the disorder has made their lives so miserable that they're unable to keep going. But that's what's real.
Reality is that I almost died last year. That my doctors were advising my mother to look into hospice care, to see a grief counselor, that I wrapped everyone's presents early because I didn't think I'd be around at Christmas, that I slept with goodbye letters under my pillow every night "just incase" I didn't wake up, that I was terrified of dying and yet unable to bring myself to eat more than 300 calories a day, that I wouldn't leave my room for months because I thought I would "inhale" calories if I was anywhere near food.
I definitely wasn't thinking about how I would have looked in a bikini, or whether or not I had a thigh gap, or what size jeans I would wear at J-Crew. I was thinking about whether or not I could have breathed in calories from the meal my family had eaten downstairs/if the calories could "get in" from under my door. I was thinking about what people would say at my funeral/if my family would be sad. I was focused on trying make it through each day on my small allotment of plain oatmeal and applesauce. I really, truly could not have cared less about those other things. It wasn't about that. It never was.
My eating disorder definitely did not begin because I wanted a 'thigh gap' or a 'bikini body'. It wasn't "collateral damage from our culture of thinness". And to see the disorder that consumed over half of my life compared to false eyelashes and hair extensions is, quite honestly, infuriating. We don't need more awareness that our society places a strong emphasis on physical appearance, or that there is pressure to look a certain way. Not only is it completely unrelated to eating disorders, but I think everyone is already well aware of it. What we need are people who are willing to speak to the true experience of an eating disorder, even if it's painful and complicated. I think that if more people were able to recognize that eating disorders are serious, life-threatening psychological disorders, and not just quests for thinness and beauty, there would be much less shame around struggling, and more ability for those in the position of treating the sufferer to offer real help and support.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Getting Started
I've wanted to start a blog for awhile now, but given that life is crazy (and that I am indecisive and it took me approximately 10 years to decide what I would even name a blog) I haven't gotten around to it until now.
A little about me - my name is Rachel. I'm 22 years old and I live right outside of Washington D.C. (Northern Virginia) I currently live with my family and work full-time as a wellness consultant at a massage clinic. I've had to take the last year off from school, but I've been studying Psychology and am hoping to start taking some classes again this fall. I love writing - and have kept a personal blog about my life and recovery journey over the last few years. I've found that I can put my experience into writing much easier than I can actually speak it, and keeping the blog has not only really helped me to gain insight into myself and my struggle, but I think it's allowed my friends and family to understand and support me in a way that they wouldn't have been able to otherwise. Overall, it's just been incredibly helpful to me.
This blog, however, is not as much for me as it is for my readers. My desire to start 'Project REAL' has stemmed from my frustration with all of the inaccurate and misleading information about (but not really about) eating disorders that I've seen posted by different eating disorder organizations and treatment centers. I want to use this blog as a means of raising true awareness of what the reality of an eating disorder is and what the process of recovery looks like, given that I haven't found that elsewhere. I'm going to be picking apart a lot of the misleading articles that I've come across (and will no doubt continue to come across) and use what I have learned from my experience and from the experiences of those who have struggled alongside me to share what I know to be true. (hence the name - Project REAL)
Side note: The title of this blog is really not meant to sound as passive-aggressive as it does. I do respect the work that Project HEAL does in raising scholarships funding treatment for people who aren 't able to afford it otherwise, and I have no doubt that everyone involved in the organization has the best intentions at heart. However, after briefly volunteering with the Northern Virginia chapter, I was incredibly frustrated with most of what was being posted, and after getting some flack for writing about my disagreement with one of their articles, I decided that it was time for me to start my own blog so that I could have a space to share what I know to be real without having to worry about my views not aligning with those of a larger group or organization.
Anyways, I am very excited about getting started and look forward to seeing what the future holds for me and my blog. I hope you are as well. I want to give a big thank you to everyone who has supported and encouraged me in getting started - especially Danielle, Kelly and my amazing mother. You guys are the best!
A little about me - my name is Rachel. I'm 22 years old and I live right outside of Washington D.C. (Northern Virginia) I currently live with my family and work full-time as a wellness consultant at a massage clinic. I've had to take the last year off from school, but I've been studying Psychology and am hoping to start taking some classes again this fall. I love writing - and have kept a personal blog about my life and recovery journey over the last few years. I've found that I can put my experience into writing much easier than I can actually speak it, and keeping the blog has not only really helped me to gain insight into myself and my struggle, but I think it's allowed my friends and family to understand and support me in a way that they wouldn't have been able to otherwise. Overall, it's just been incredibly helpful to me.
This blog, however, is not as much for me as it is for my readers. My desire to start 'Project REAL' has stemmed from my frustration with all of the inaccurate and misleading information about (but not really about) eating disorders that I've seen posted by different eating disorder organizations and treatment centers. I want to use this blog as a means of raising true awareness of what the reality of an eating disorder is and what the process of recovery looks like, given that I haven't found that elsewhere. I'm going to be picking apart a lot of the misleading articles that I've come across (and will no doubt continue to come across) and use what I have learned from my experience and from the experiences of those who have struggled alongside me to share what I know to be true. (hence the name - Project REAL)
Side note: The title of this blog is really not meant to sound as passive-aggressive as it does. I do respect the work that Project HEAL does in raising scholarships funding treatment for people who aren 't able to afford it otherwise, and I have no doubt that everyone involved in the organization has the best intentions at heart. However, after briefly volunteering with the Northern Virginia chapter, I was incredibly frustrated with most of what was being posted, and after getting some flack for writing about my disagreement with one of their articles, I decided that it was time for me to start my own blog so that I could have a space to share what I know to be real without having to worry about my views not aligning with those of a larger group or organization.
Anyways, I am very excited about getting started and look forward to seeing what the future holds for me and my blog. I hope you are as well. I want to give a big thank you to everyone who has supported and encouraged me in getting started - especially Danielle, Kelly and my amazing mother. You guys are the best!
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