Comments on the Body

"You're looking nice and trim. Looking good."

My eyes opened wide, I clenched my jaw, and I took a huge, deep breath before I nodded and changed the subject.

My grandparents are in town for the weekend. Family gatherings are triggering. Whenever my grandparents are around my family enters into a land where the pursuit of perfection is the only thing that matters. We want to say the perfect thing, act perfectly, act mature, be seen as perfectly successful. Even if these views are dated from our history and are no longer current, we still fall back in these patterns from my childhood. I feel the eating disorder creeping in, telling me how to be perfect, setting new goals for me, talking to me, wanting to hold my hand and guide me through the stress of wanting to appear perfect for my grandparents.

My grandpa mentioned that I looked slim, trim, 'in shape.' I wanted to scream. My head already reeling, trying to fight the eating disorder from creeping back in, I hear these comments about my body and the eating disorder runs wild in my head. I try to silence it, but being thin has been a life long goal for me and letting go of that goal has been like trying to let go of a religion. When someone comments on my body, it always seems like a "lose, lose" situation.  A compliment will be construed as a way to harness me back in to try to keep losing weight. Any other comment could be devastating and a way for my to fall back into the eating disorder's grips. 

Ways I can combat the eating disorder when it comes creeping back in:

Comment: "You're looking nice and trim. Looking good."- my grandpa
Ed: "Yes! Haha, we are succeeding once again, come back to me and we will be a stick figure again."
Wise Mind: "First of all, that's a really insensitive thing to say to someone with an eating disorder, especially if you know my history. But I refuse to be a victim. I have been very active lately because it is summer and I've been spending a lot of time on my bike. I may have lost a little weight but I need to stay on track."
Ed: "You could keep riding and running and just cut a few calories. Just a few."
Wise Mind: "Nope. I need to keep eating healthily so I can stay strong on my bicycle. So I can stay strong in recovery. I will eat what my body craves. I will eat when I am hungry and stop when I am satiated."

Comment: "I like your shape."- my boyfriend
Ed: "Shape?! SHAPE!? You can't have a shape. You will have no curves, you will take up no space. Your body will have no SHAPE!"
Wise Mind: "That was a compliment. I am a lady. I will accept that someone can like my body just the way it is and I am not willing to change my body. I am working on accepting my body just the way it is. I have a woman's body and I am allowed to have a shape, I am allowed to take up space."

Comment: "You're legs must be like tree trunks by now"- my dad, regarding all the bike riding I've been doing.
Ed: "That is disgusting. Like the Hulk? You have Hulk legs. They're huge. You will not eat and I don't care if you can't ride your bike anymore. You're legs are huge. Which means the rest of your body is huge. Unacceptable."
Wise Mind: "No, that comment was unacceptable, insensitive, and just plain weird. Yes, you have extremely powerful, strong legs. You have a strong, capable body. Your legs are no bigger than they have been in the past, they are just stronger, more muscular. Think about how great your body feels because you are eating healthily. You are capable, smart, loving, and strong. Keep up the good work. Don't let one insensitive comment spiral you back in a land of self-destruction."

I know my Wise-Mind is strong and can combat eating disordered thoughts when they surface. I have to notice the thoughts are eating disordered. I have to recognize that comments regarding my body are triggering and I have to be completely unwilling to change my body, completely unwilling to indulge the eating disorder, even for a minute. 

The Last Four Years

June 22, 2009

“You can relax now, Mom. I'm in good hands. They'll take good care of me here, you're done. Thank you for everything.” She nodded. My mom had worked hard to get me into the Center for Hope of the Sierras. I think she felt awful because she could never love me enough to take away my eating disorder. She really did everything a mom could do to try and save me from the beast inside me and it still took over.

With that, my parents left me in good hands. I put my armor on and got ready to fight the beast that had been plaguing me for the last fifteen years.

When I walked into CHS on June 22, 2009 I was ready to recover. I had lived in misery for so long I was ready to be done. I was sick of fighting. I was sick of fighting with my family about my eating disorder. Sick of spending all my money on binge food and diet pills, sick of counting calories, sick of compulsively trying to burn more than I ate. So sick. I was ready to be done with it. I believe this is why I have been so successful in my recovery. I was ready to recover. I knew I never wanted to live that way again. I wanted out of the trap. I needed help. I needed to recover. I would take time to heal. I would do it now, and I would never come back.

Half-way through treatment. Around the time when my hair stopped falling out.

I spent 101 days in treatment. From June 22 to October 1. Everyday I woke up and fought. Everyday was a struggle. I did it courageously. I untangled my eating disorder. I learned why I needed it, why I needed the behaviors, and how the addiction had been serving me for so many years. June 22nd is a day of celebration for me. It's the last day, four years ago, I weighed myself. This is the day I began to live my life without an eating disorder. I am proud of everything I have accomplished. Looking back, I feel like I used to live a dark past life, I am a completely different person. I have come so far.

The last four years have been an amazing journey. Without my eating disorder, I've learned how to live a real life as myself, not obsessing about calories or weight. I have a real personality, I do real things in my life. I tend to myself and my well being.

I've learned new sports...

 I've met amazing people and have a great group of friends...

 I have a great job...

 ...an amazing dog...

...and a loving, supportive family

I know none of this would be possible had I continued along with an eating disorder. I have worked extremely hard the last few years to get where I am today.
Things that have helped:

• Creating a recovery minded space to live in
• Setting the boundary that "Recovery Comes First"
• My recovery is my first priority in my life no matter what
• Stopping the behaviors
• the less I engage in the behaviors the weaker the urges are
• Acknowledging, and processing through, emotions healthily
• Not weighing myself
• Working on body acceptance
• Separating my Wise Mind out from eating disordered thoughts and behaviors
• Knowing my brain operates differently because I have an eating disorder
• I see things and interpret the world through the filter of the eating disorder

While in treatment I learned that my eating disorder is a coping mechanism. I've spent the last few years developing other, healthy coping mechanisms and learning how to take care of myself without an eating disorder. I've spent the last few years knowing that life is possible without my eating disorder. It all started on June 22, 2009. This is a huge day for me. I'm proud of myself and how far I've come. 

I am grateful to everyone who has been here with me along this journey. My family has been unconditionally supportive. My therapists have helped me figure out all the tangled aspects of my eating disorder. Everyone at the Center for Hope of the Sierras made my journey back to life possible. Thank you. 

Incredible Things... my inspiration to recover

I want to do incredible things. 

I remember this when I am struggling. I say it to myself, I repeat it like a mantra. 

I've had my struggles lately. I hate admitting it, but its true. The perfectionist inside me wants everyone to believe that I'm perfect in my recovery, but I've had some real stress in my life lately and am learning how to process it without turning to eating disordered behaviors. The behavior I'm struggling with the most right now is restricting. I've learned over the last few years the more I engage in a behavior the harder it is to fight the next time the urge surfaces. If I restrict, or skip a meal, its addicting to me. My eating disorder takes this and runs with it. I know that it will be even harder to eat the next time I try, because I previously engaged in restricting.

The urge to restrict surfaces because my eating disorder has me convinced that if I can change my body, I'll change the way I can handle a situation. If I were thinner, I would handle this situation better. If I were in a different body, I would handle this situation differently. My Wise Mind knows this is not the case.    

I want to do incredible things.

When I am engaging in my eating disorder, indulging in restricting, not nourishing my body, I become weak. When I am not getting the proper nutrients my brain doesn't function as great as I'm used to. A bunch of things go wrong in my body when I'm not eating properly. 

The first thing I notice is how light headed I get. I've almost passed out driving and I can't stay focused at work. The second is that I get weak. I consider myself an athlete. I consider myself a very capable woman; on bikes, skis, on foot, you name it, I have a very strong body. I keep up. I like to lead the pack. When I'm not eating properly, when I'm not eating enough, I feel weak. I get lethargic. I can't keep up. As hard as I try, I cannot muster up the strength to perform at the level I know I'm capable of. Feeling weak breaks my heart, because I know what I am capable of. I love feeling strong.

I want to do incredible things.

The eating disorder takes away my capability to do incredible things. It takes away my brain power that makes it possible for me to write. It takes away my physical power. It takes away my power to inspire. 

When I am fighting, struggling, and know I need to eat a balanced diet and nourish myself properly, I remember that I want to do incredible things. I want to climb mountains, ride my bike up (and down!) steep hills, run through the wilderness like an animal, and think clearly so I can write and connect with others. 

My inspiration to eat is that I want to do incredible things, and I can't do any of the things I want to if I am not eating.  

Learning to Cope

The eating disorder as a coping mechanism

The eating disorder was a way for me to numb myself, to stop myself from feeling emotions. It was a way to hide from the world when I couldn't handle a situation. When I began to feel an emotion or became overwhelmed, the eating disorder would come in and occupy my mind with obsessive thoughts. It took over everything. For years it was a relief. I never had too be angry. I never had to be sad. I never felt betrayed. I never felt lonely. I had my eating disorder to hold onto. I was completely numb from the world. I focused on weight and calories and eating disordered behaviors. For the time I was obsessing, I could escape from my life.

Along with never feeling negative emotions, I was never allowed to feel positive emotions either. I never felt real joy. I never connected with people and made real friends. I never took risks and trusted relationships. I never let happiness fully into my life. I never needed to. I had my eating disorder. And I thought it was all I ever needed. It kept me sheltered from all the emotions of the world. I never had to deal with boredom, loneliness, anger, or depression. Instead, I dealt with my eating disorder. Whenever emotions surfaced, I turned to my eating disorder and the behaviors to soothe, and distract, me.

In recovery, the behaviors are not an option. When the behaviors are not an option, the emotions surface and need to be processed through healthily, instead of suffocated with starving or bingeing and purging. I process my emotions by first acknowledging the emotion is there. I say out loud,

"I'm angry." 

"I'm sad." 

"I'm lonely." 

"I'm frustrated."

I label the emotion and this helps me process through it. I give myself permission to feel emotions, even though it may be uncomfortable, even though it may feel icky for a while. I let myself feel the emotion and live in it, so I can move through it, instead of ignoring it. While living in the emotion I let myself cry, scream, whine and emote to get through it and get it out of my system. I give myself permission to feel. I know my emotions are valid. I am human and am allowed to process how I feel.

In the last few months I've come to the conclusion that I'm sensitive. And that's okay. My whole life I've been told to "Buck up," that "It's just pain," and "Oh, come on." Basically I've been told to get over it, stuff my feelings inside, don't feel, be strong, don't acknowledge pain or sadness. I know now that it is alright to be emotional. I am human. My emotions make up my humanity. Along with all the heartbreaks, sadness, and anger I experience comes indescribable excitement, joy, and love.

I no longer use the eating disorder to numb myself from the world. I acknowledge and process through emotions. I talk about them with friends, family, and therapists. I give myself permission to feel the emotion and live in it and am able to move on. I'm sensitive. I'm loving. I get sad sometimes. But I am also immeasurably happy. No longer numb. I am alive. Exactly the opposite of what the eating disorder wanted from me. I've learned how to cope with emotions healthily and continued taking power away from the eating disorder. 

Accepting My Body

Body image: how you perceive your body 

With eating disorders, negative body image is usually the first thing to show up in the struggle and the last thing to leave in recovery. I still struggle with body image to this day. I started struggling when I was eight. 

Struggling, to me, means I hate being in my body. It means I see my body as many sizes larger than actuality. It means dealing with the shame and depression of feeling "fat". I get really upset sometimes that I have such distorted body image that I don't get to see the body the rest of the world sees when I look in the mirror. And the way I perceive my body can change minute to minute. It can change based on what is going on in my life, based on my emotional state. If I'm really stressed, or sad, or angry, suddenly my body is several sizes larger than it was three minutes earlier. I know my body is not swelling up several sizes, but it feels so real. 

What I've learned in my recovery is how to deal with this distorted body image and not act on thoughts driving me to change my body. When I'm struggling with body image, urges to restrict surface.The eating disorder will tell me not to eat. It will limit me to eating somethings and not others. It convinces me I'm full and do not need to eat, even though I haven't eaten anything. When I'm having a bad body image day, I have to be strong and not let my eating disorder rule my decisions. I know when I'm struggling with body image. I can pinpoint it now. I feel huge in my body. I want to change everything about my body. I'm ashamed to go out in public in my body. I am terrified that none of my clothes will fit and am shocked when they fit the same as they have for years. 

My objective reality is that I know I am the same size. My clothes have fit the same for years. Nothing about my body has changed. I am not swelling up and out of control, even though there are voices in my head telling me that I am with every bite. I stay strong and know I am at my natural body weight. I have been at this weight for years. Eating normally. The next step is accepting that this is my natural weight and disconnecting from the desire and desperation to lose weight. 

Accepting my body means focusing on other things in my life; it means letting go of the weight loss goals that I've spent my life pursuing.

Accepting my body means standing out in our society, as not many women are accepting and loving of their bodies.

Accepting my body means abandoning my eating disorder.

Being in my real body means being real and authentic in my personality.

Being in my body just as it is means I have to trust the world will accept me just the way I am.

This is taking a lot of courage, acceptance, trust, and willingness. I feel like I've been struggling with body image for so long, I'm exhausted and sick of fighting my body. It would be a lie to say I've accepted my body, I love my body, and sing its praises. It is more honest to speak of my progress and how far I've come. I'm no longer willing to make sacrifices to change my body. I know my emotional state has an effect on how I see my body. I'm working toward the day when I look in a mirror and like what I see. Better yet, I'm working toward the day when I don't compulsively look in mirrors to check the size of my body because I have a great enough self concept as it is. I do not need to check on the size of my body for validation. 

My body image is improving. Now I focus on how capable I am. I have great balance. I climb mountains. I ride bikes. I ski fast. I run like the wind. I play hard and sleep deeply. My body takes me great places and I am grateful for it. That's how far I've come. I'm grateful for my body.   

  

Something Great

In recent weeks I've experienced the loss of two people in my life. Two teachers. Two mentors. Two highly inspirational people. I wish I could say that this loss has made me want to quit my job and go save the world via studying Shakespeare in honor of one. Or, in honor of another, go study storms, or climate change to save thousands of lives. But I'm just me. I am, instead, inspired to live my own life to it's fullest in honor of this loss.

Growing up, everyone always told me, "You're going to Be Someone. You're going to Do Something, do something Great." Well, I'm 25 and work a retail job. I ski 100 days a year and bike the rest of the time. I have a nine month old Golden Retriever. On paper, I don't feel like I'm doing anything Great.

But I'm happy. I am happy to wake up every morning and be alive. I am happy to breath in air and see sunshine. I am happy to hike and stand on top of a mountain with an able body, because I lived through a time when my body was not able. 

The Great thing I've done is survive an eating disorder. It is my duty to share my knowledge of these disorders, and my experiences, with those struggling and their families. 

One of the people I experienced the loss of in the last few weeks was Storm Chaser, Carl Young. He did research, and was out and about chasing storms, warning people of incoming tornadoes. It was mentioned many times during his memorial that his crew would be out chasing storms and able send warnings to nearby towns that a tornado was coming in. The town would be able to send out official tornado warnings. Because of their research, they possibly saved thousands of people by sending out warnings. His brother talked about all of this at the memorial. He asked us to honor Carl, "How many lives have you saved today?" This comment resonated with me. 

The deaths of those close to me have not inspired me to finish my degree, to go study abroad, or drastically change any aspect of my life in anyone's honor. But the comment, "How many lives have you saved?" Carl was out using his knowledge to save lives. This is inspirational to me. While I'm not doing anything Great, the way I live my life now is life changing to people. The way I have survived, am now happy and thriving, and able to share my experiences with people is life changing. Life saving.

I am honored to have known Carl Young and Patricia Troxel. In honor of these two mentor's passing, I will continue to reach out to those struggling with eating disorders, and body image issues. It is my duty to share my knowledge. That is my something Great. I will influence people in the only way I know how. I will continue to work on my book, continue to share my stories, and experiences, at recovery centers, and continue to write in honor of those struggling. I will continue to live my life on the path of recovery, reaching out, letting everyone know that it is possible to survive an eating disorder. 

Thank you Patricia and Carl. Your memory lives on. You inspired and saved many. Thank you for everything. 

Eat Less...Permission to Eat

I heard something yesterday that broke my heart, fired me up, and got me thinking.

I have customers coming in all the time to get fitness clothing because they are embarking on a fitness journey for various reasons. They just bought a new bike, they just bought a gym membership, but the most popular is that they want to lose weight or "get in shape". 

I had a customer in the store yesterday who was in the category of wanting to lose weight. She claimed that within a few months she'd gained a couple sizes and was unhappy in her body. She proceeded to tell me about her first spin class. The teacher went around after the class making exclamations at each student. He would point at each student as he said, "Good focus today... Way to push yourself...etc" When he came to my customer he pointed at her and said, "Eat less." 

Eat less.

I could cry. That those words could escape someone's mouth in our society; where women have to fight for permission to eat anyways. Women are already bombarded with messages to 'eat less'. We are already encouraged to take up less space. We eat in secret. We pursue the ideal body. We abuse ourselves to fit. Our weight rockets around as we diet, gain the weight back, diet, gain the weight back. Our closet is full of every possible size of clothes because at one point we 'ate less' and got so tired of starving we threw in the towel and binged, retaliating against the diet culture. Only to go on one more diet, promising that this one is it. 

We fight against the diet culture every day to gain permission to eat. Every magazine cover we see at the store tells us we have too much belly fat, that our thighs are too big, and promises a solution. Our culture is addicted to this, addicted to dieting, addicted to the fact that we do not have permission to eat. We are addicted to trying to change our bodies. The women in our society have to fight for their permission to eat without being on some kind of diet. We fight for our permission to be hungry.

Eat less.  

I got to talk to my customer about this comment, what it did to her emotionally, and how she processed it. The first thing she wanted to do after hearing that comment was eat. That didn't surprise me at all. Someone who is struggling with their weight, either over or underweight, takes out emotions on food. We do not know how to process emotions. We do not know how to cope. We use food as a way to control our emotions by either over-eating or starving. The comment made her angry and want to retaliate. Not knowing how to process these emotions, the answer is food. She said the first thing she started thinking about, the first question she asked herself was, "What kind of food do I want to eat?" Instead of, "How am I going to process this hurtful comment? What am I feeling? How am I going to cope with these painful emotions?" She unconsciously went straight to, "How am I going to tune out the world with food?" This is the essence of an eating disorder.

How can I distance myself from my life?

How can I tune out the world?

How can I make it so I am not really, truly alive?

Food. 

For the few minutes, or any length of time, we are obsessively  focusing on food, we don't have to think about the real elements of our lives. We can tune out, we don't have to process emotions, we don't have to be uncomfortable, we are soothed by focusing on food. 

I teach spin myself. I encourage intuitive eating, and body acceptance, among my students. Eat when you are hungry, stop when you are full. Stay mindful when you are eating, pay attention to taste and your fullness level. Do not use eating as a way to escape from the world. Accept your natural body weight where it is when you are eating intuitively and exercising when you have energy. Love and honor your body.

Sometimes I feel hopeless that there are people out there clueless to these issues and I wish I could reach, and inform, everyone of the severity of eating disorders. I feel that this, here, is a way that I can influence our society. I can reach out through writing. I can reach out through my classes and students. I can practice what I preach. Which means giving myself permission to eat. It means giving myself permission to separate out emotions from food. It means continuing to educate myself and advocate for those struggling with any kind of food and weight addiction. Having been through what I've been through, my struggles with an eating disorder, I cannot stand by and allow fitness instructors to humiliate those struggling with their weight, and food, by exclaiming that they should "Eat less." 

Give yourself permission to eat. Give yourself permission to accept your natural body weight. Honor your hunger. Process your emotions. Take pride in who you are and don't let our culture's addiction to dieting dictate how you live your life. 

      

To Date, Like Normal

When I was deep in my struggle with my eating disorder, even the most mundane, normal tasks of life seemed impossible. Life events such going out with friends, dating, going to school, even holding a job seemed unfeasible. I fight for my recovery because I want to feel normal and do normal things that make up a healthy life.

The decision to go into treatment was made when I was away at school watching a movie with my boyfriend. A scene of two people out on a date came up. The movie was a comedy and I began sobbing when a realization hit me. “I’m never going to be able to do that. I’m never going to be able to go out on a date.
I’m never going to be normal. I’m never going to be able to sit and eat a meal with someone and be normal. I’m 21 and I’ll never be able to date. I’ll never be able to share a meal with someone, to sit across the table from someone and eat. I’m never going to be normal,” I sobbed as he held me.

“You think you should go into treatment, Bud?” That was our nickname for each other, Buddy.

It had never occurred to me to go into treatment. I never thought I’d be that person. I was never sick enough to go into treatment. I was never disordered enough. I always had it under control. Mostly, though, I was never thin enough. I would never be thin enough. I nodded through the tears.

To be able to go on a date was, and is, my motivation to stay in recovery. When I was struggling in treatment the girls would continue to remind me why I was there. "You want to be able to go on a date, like normal, right? If you want to be able to date, you have to beat this eating disorder." I'd continue to fight as hard as I could. I'd continue to eat. I'd make recovery oriented decisions. Because I wanted to be able to sit at a table with someone, read a menu, order a meal, and enjoy it without my eating disorder haunting me, shaming me, and trying to make all my decisions for me. 

In years past, a date would be fraught with debilitating anxiety. I would be trying to hold a conversation with another person while the voices in my head conversed about the amount of calories I was ingesting, where I and how I was going to get rid of them, and what everyone in my surroundings was thinking about me for eating. I couldn't focus on anything but what the eating disorder was demanding of me. It was as if there was no other person there. It was always as though I was on a date with my eating disorder.

I am free now. I can date. I can read a menu. I can laugh and engage in real conversations over meals, without the eating disorder ruling me. I have enjoyed many beautiful meals with amazing men, allowing my personality to shine through; not worried about food, calories, or bmi. I was 21 when I surrendered and thought I'd never be able to enjoy that part of normal life. I am 25 now and am taking my power back and learning how to date.

That's what my motivation for recovery is. That's where the title comes from. Find your motivation for recovery and constantly remind yourself that it's worth it to be able to date, like normal.   

Defining Recovery

I believe each and every individual needs to define recovery for themselves.

I feel that anyone affected with an eating disorder to the degree that I am is constantly reminded of it. 
I am constantly striving to accept my body and love it for the way that it is, but I've also accepted the fact that I may never be comfortable in my body.

Recovery is continuing to function successfully and healthy, even though I may never fully accept my body.
Recovery is learning how to deal with emotions.

Recovery means accepting that I may never see my body the way the rest of the world sees it.

Recovery, to me, means that I’m not constantly haunted by urges and thoughts. 

Recovery means that I do not act on urges and thoughts. 

There was a time in my life where everything was eating disordered. Now the thoughts and urges only surface every so often. Recovery, to me, means that I know how to handle the thoughts and urges when they surface. Sometimes I’ll go months without the voice of the eating disorder saying anything, but then I’ll hear it loud and clear the next day. 

Recovery, for me, means I know how to combat the thoughts and urges. I am unsure if I’ll ever be totally free from the thoughts, but I believe in a life not totally ruled by the eating disorder. 

I believe that I can live my life not haunted every second of every day. Define recovery for yourself; I believe in a life not ruled by an eating disorder. This is recovery.

Its Crazy-Making

In a recent conversation with a girlfriend of mine who is also in recovery, we realized how having an eating disorder can make you feel as though you are going mad. Crazy. Psycho. Losing your mind. An example of this would be, when I'm having a bad day, I might go to the grocery store up to four times in a day trying to decide on what I'm willing to eat.

Tangent on WILLINGNESS: There is a difference between the phrases "I can't," "I won't" and "I'll try".

For me the phrase, "I can't" means I am completely under control of the eating disorder. "I can't" means the eating disorder is making all my decisions for me. 
Examples would be, "I can't eat that," "I can't keep it down." 

When I transition into saying "I won't" I am taking back some of my power from the eating disorder. I know I have the option to disobey the eating disorder. "I won't eat that". I might not eat it, but I know I have the option. I am not completely obeying the eating disorder, I know I have choices. I may still make the eating disordered decision, but at least I know I have choices and don't have to blindly obey.

When I transition into saying "I'll try" I am actively making recovery oriented decisions. 

I say, "I'll try to eat that." To keep myself active in my recovery, I say, "I'll try."

When I am having a bad day, and I consider myself struggling, I continue to say "I'll try." The eating disorder makes me feel crazy in that I will go to the grocery store and get something that I think sounds appetizing. I will take it home to eat, saying, "I'll try to eat this." I get home and suddenly the eating disorder voice in my head is so loud I can't hear anything. Suddenly, "I can't" eat it. For various reasons. The eating disorder will convince me that what I made doesn't sound appetizing anymore, that I don't need it, that my body doesn't want it. I will go BACK to the grocery store to find something else I am willing to eat. I get home to try to eat, and the eating disorder won't let me eat. This might happen several times a day. I keep trying and the eating disorder keeps fighting. This makes me feel like I'm going mad. I feel like I'm crazy because I can't just go to a grocery store, pick out something that sounds delicious, and eat it. When I'm struggling, it's a battle.

In my recovery, a realization that I've made to help me recover, is that my brain operates differently than other people's because I have an eating disorder. I say that to myself sometimes and don't believe it. I have an eating disorder. My brain works differently, I interpret the world differently, because I have an eating disorder. This means that I have a filter in my brain that interprets everything I see, everything I hear, as an opportunity to lose weight, or self-destruct. I have come to the conclusion that my brain operates completely differently than other people's. I see and experience the world through the filter of the eating disorder. This means that every comment, every experience can be turned into one where the eating disorder tells me I’m fat, I need to lose weight, I’m not worthy, and I don’t deserve anything. Sometimes this filter, and the thoughts it creates, makes me feel like I'm going crazy. I have practiced separating myself out from the eating disorder. I try to act on self-nurturing thoughts, not self-destructive ones. I recognize when the eating disorder is talking and when my Wise Mind is speaking. I listen to my objective reality. Sometimes the battles between objective reality, and Wise Mind, versus the eating disorder are so great its enough to make you feel as though you are going crazy. You can't believe one person can have that many thoughts going on in their brain at once. All the contradictory thoughts at once. 

If you have, and are recovering from, an eating disorder you are not alone in the feeling of going mad. Many of us completely understand. I think recovering from an eating disorder is learning how to deal with these crazy-making thoughts. I remember to keep taking deep breaths and listen to my Wise Mind. I act on self nurturing thoughts, not self destructive ones. I know I am not going crazy. It's just part of having, and recovering from an eating disorder.