I am a 67 year old woman. My journey begins by the time I was 10 years old. For various reasons that I will not go into in this blog entry, I began to restrict my food, unbeknownst to my parents. I began by skipping breakfast and lunch Monday through Friday.
When I got to high school I knew I had an eating problem after reading the book that was written by Cheeri Boone where she talked in depth about her struggle with anorexia. But that didn’t deter me in my quest to deal with the immense emotional pain I felt.
When I left home at the age of 18, the anorexia continued and caused drastic weight loss at times. But somehow I managed to hide it from others. I understand that back in the 70’s, eating disorders were not as widely recognized,and understood as they are now. Throughout my adult life, I managed to raise 2 children mostly as a single parent and to even get 2 college degrees. This lifestyle allowed me to not have to address, much less even to think about my eating or lack thereof.
There were times that my eating disorder became totally out of control yet still those who at that point in time did recognize that I was too thin did not really brooch the subject. Yes, there was a time that my boyfriend (who later became my husband) even tried bribery with a complete new wardrobe if only I would gain weight. This didn’t work since the 1 requirement was I get rid of all of my ‘very skinny’ clothes, which I was unable or unwilling to do.
I managed to avoid the subject in my own thoughts by staying busier and not eating enough to keep me truly healthy. As time went on I went on to have 2 different careers both of which I loved, but the eating disorder never left me. Even having 3 granddaughters, who I adore beyond belief, did not stop the run away train I was on. The eating disorder was in total control of me, my thinking and my life.
After I retired from my last job my restrictions became greater, all with the justification of I am getting older and need to be eating healthier, as I cut out more and more types of food from my food intake. My rules for what I would do became more and more rigid; in order to prove to myself that there was nothing wrong with me and that I had not suffer from an eating disorder. All of which, of course, I thought were working. I didn’t realize at the time that I could not think mentally healthy even if I would have wanted to. The malnutrition my body was experiencing had stopped all mental health growth. I was beyond stopping the disease (and yes, it IS a disease).
4 years ago at the urging of a counselor, who had NO experience in eating disorders, I entered a Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP) after I violated one of my “cardinal rules”. This PHP was set up to only milk the insurance system for every dime they could get. Obviously this particular system was not for me and did not to help me. When I tried to point out the areas that I needed help and began to challenge their methods in order to get the real help I needed, I was discharged far below even the minimum weight for my body type and height. However they did set me up with another therapist within their system, who once again had NO experience treating eating disorders.
For 2 years, as I continued to see this therapist, my weight steadily decreased until I had lost almost 1/3 of my already too thin frame. At some point, I began to believe there was no help for me. I had spent those 2 years trying to find other help and became more and more frustrated over the lack of help for me. I came to believe that I was going to die and there was nothing I could do. I had totally given up. My counselor couldn’t and wasn’t able to help me, mostly due to lack of knowledge. I was far past the point of being able to be honest with her or even myself. I knew what I looked like and hated it. I looked like an Auschwitz survivor. I could see exactly what I looked like yet was unable to stop the down hill slide.
One day my daughter was over and caught me getting dressed. She was abhorred at what I looked like. My daughter is beyond persistent when it comes to handling an issue. She spent more hours than I can count trying to find other available help for her mom. It became apparent that if I wanted the help I needed I would have to pay out of pocket. I didn’t want to do this, but I know now it was the ED controlling my thoughts. The insistence of my daughter pushed me into making this, what I considered at the time, decision I did not want. And I entered a residential treatment facility.
Once there, I was an angry woman, and only lasted 2 weeks before my mind found what it considered legitimate reasons to leave which I did with many, many loud angry words towards the help. When I got home, I began to do some in-depth research so I could get better by myself. I found out that I could not do it. Not only that, but I discovered because of my weight, it was now very medically dangerous to do it by myself. The treatment center I had left in my fit of anger reached out and gave me the chance to come back; no strings attached other than my original agreement for payment.
Long story short, I went back, much more humbled and thoroughly ashamed of my earlier behavior with a new realization that I could NOT do this on my own. While there I will admit that I still hated some of the stuff I had to do as part of the program and had thought were silly and stupid. Unbeknownst to me, my mind did hear and absorbed what I was taught and heard. After 2 1/2 months I was discharged with the weight gain I needed and a realistic meal plan to follow to continue in my journey towards getting even healthy and more mentally stable. I also had a dietician lined up who had experience in EDs in addition to the same therapist I had before I went into the residential treatment center.
I came home with a new sense of “I can do this”, until I hit a weight gain that I could not handle mentally. Since my therapist still had no experience with eating disorders she was not very helpful. So I began to do some more research looking for a mental health professional who actually had experience in this area. I will say this was also very, very frustrating, but my search finally paid off.
I began to lose weight again though not to the degree I had before. With the help of my new psychologist and my dietician I was able to finally be diagnosed with the correct diagnosis for an underlying mental health condition I had. Initially, I still did not do well. I even reached out to the treatment facility I had been in. Again, unless I could pay put of pocket, there was no help for me. This I could not do since I was still paying off the initial treatment.
It took a while and a whole lot of anger towards ‘the system’ but I finally was able to realize and believe I had the tools I needed to overcome my anorexia and it was up to me; but now I had two professionals who knew and understood the Eating Disorder that had invaded my mind. I also learned or should I say realized that what I had learned at the inpatient facility that I had thought were silly and stupid were for and had good reasons and they gave me more tools in my tool box. I came to truly know, or as my daughter says, know with a capital K, that I could do this.
I will not say it has been easy; in fact quite the opposite; this has been one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. Changing 50+ years of distorted thinking and beliefs is so very difficult. At times I want to give up, but those times are getting further and further apart with the help of the professional support team I have. I have now reached a healthy weight and continue to maintain it. I continue to use all the tools I have learned and to discuss any changes I want to make that may impact my recover with my professional support team. I value their opinions and listen.
I have learned that I will have ‘off’ days but to soldier through them. I have learned that ‘No nutrition is not an option’. On those days I recognize that it is the ED talking and trying to get back in control. I also take steps to reach out to my support team as well as to sit with the uneasy emotions. This is not always easy or even what I want to but I do it. I have learned to not ‘beat myself up’ when I have off days, but rather to ‘get back on the horse’ so to speak as quickly as possible.
FINAL THOUGHTS:
I know and believe that those of us who suffer from an ED of any type can beat it. It is hard work and at times feels impossible; but I am sure it is a goal that is obtainable to all of you out there.
KEEP YOUR CHIN UP! Take baby steps towards your recovery, put one foot in front of the other and know, with a capital K, you CAN do it. Even if you can’t see it now, the world needs you.
Wings of Recovery 