Never Stop Fighting for Recovery
This post originally appeared on Proud2BMe
About three-and-a-half years ago, I never imagined I would write this story. Seriously. I never thought I would like--let alone love myself. Most days I celebrate my awesomeness. Some days are better than others (don't worry, I am still a human), but it's those hard days that make me so grateful for life in recovery.
So let me tell you a little bit about how I got to this place.
I started school in the fall of 2010, excited to be on my own and ready to meet new people. In high school I had struggled with disordered eating, and a few weeks into my new college adventure, my disordered eating worsened into a full-blown eating disorder.
It took me a little while to understand eating disorders. I was stuck. I kept thinking that if I shape my outside appearance to be "perfect" then I would feel "perfect" on the inside. Well, let me tell you one thing: perfect doesn't exist. The eating disorder was a way to distract, to numb what I was feeling on the inside, something I now know is my depression and anxiety. But the eating disorder never made me perfect like I thought it would; it just made things worse.
I started isolating, withdrawing from my friends. Everyone knew about it, but I was so scared of what letting go of the eating disorder would feel like. I was so scared of feeling emotions--any emotions--that I held on tightly to the eating disorder, thinking that was my only way to survive.
But I wouldn’t survive with the eating disorder. There were times when I wasn't sure if I would make it to the end of college. The eating disorder didn't allow me to see a future because it wasn’t satisfied until I was gone.
On a Tuesday in September of 2011, I curled up in my therapist’s office, holding my legs and shaking with tears. I couldn't do it anymore. My behaviors were going to kill me, and I committed to my family, friends and therapist that I would go to treatment.
For about a year-and-a-half I was in treatment for alcoholism, an eating disorder and self-harm. It was not easy, but I needed to take time for myself. I needed to stop feeling shame about who I was, and start forgiving myself.
With my amazing boyfriend, parents, sister and friends, I went back to school in the spring of 2013. I could not have gotten to the place where I am today, in recovery, without their support.
Recovery is not a straight line. It’s not a perfect process and I still have hard days. But now I can ask for help. I don't need my eating disorder to do the talking for me. I know now that I deserve to get my needs met and can take in the love that others offer.
The hard days are actually where I learn to love myself most and when I remind myself to have incredible gratitude for where I am today.
Looking back on where I was three years ago is not easy, but I am able to let go of the shame I once felt about my illnesses. Looking back on that younger me, I see she was lost and alone. She was sick and she needed hope. She needed someone who could show her the hope, compassion and guidance that she couldn't give herself.
I envision her now in my mind and give her the love she needs, the compassion she deserves and the assurance that things will get better.
I hope that's what my story can offer--hope, compassion and love to anyone who feels like it won’t get better.
If there’s one thing to take with you, it’s this: we are warriors, fighting to promote eating disorder awareness, fighting for those we love or fighting for our lives.
Never stop fighting.
