If you're reading this with regularity, you're probably noticing that there is a huge, multiple year gap in my blog posts. A few years ago, I took a break to solidify my recovery and "practice what I preach". I didn't think I was reaching the audience and I didn't feel as if I had a strong enough message.
All of that has changed. I am solid in my recovery. I have worked hard for it. I am solid in my message. I know my struggles, my triggers, and my successes. And I can articulate them in a way that my audience needs to hear.
I finally published my book, "To Date, like Normal" (available here). This is a book about recovery. About the gruesome journey of eating disorder recovery. My impetus to share my journey is to shed light on the very dark aspects of recovery.
While in my initial years of recovery, I found the happy-go-lucky, optimistic, ever-positive point of view to be extremely toxic and lacking in reality. I didn't trust anyone who was optimistic when talking about eating disorder recovery. I didn't trust them because I didn't feel as though anyone knew how gruesome and painful this recovery was. "How could anyone who has been through this possibly have such an optimistic outlook?" And, while my viewpoint has changed and I am optimistic, my message is still very grounded in the reality that recovering from an eating disorder is a horrific, gruesome battle. It is physically and mentally painful. And we need to talk about it.
There is a time and a place for the words of encouragement and the endless, "you can do it!" "Recovery is possible!" "I'm so much better without my eating disorder!" "Look at my life now!" All quotations under photos of people smiling and looking perfectly happy. This is extremely important, because there is hope and we need encouragement.
But I like to talk to people about how brutal the battle is. I like to acknowledge the struggle, the hopelessness. Not to be triggering, but to be real. Many times through my recovery journey I felt isolated because I was not perfectly optimistic. Many times I had no hope and got furious with those who were "recovered" telling me to "have hope" and "don't give up". I skimmed over those messages and stashed them for later. They were there, there was hope. It was hope for other people's recovery, not my own.
And I do have hope. I think everyone else should to. I live an incredible life now, post eating disorder. But I also want to give space to those who are struggling and feeling disgusting and acknowledge the reality of the mental health battle. That recovery is not refreshing spring rain and rainbows. It is a violent tempest that you don't feel you will escape from. We talk about the eating disorder itself and we talk about what life is like on the other side, but I want to be opening up conversations about the recovery process itself. Public conversations.
When I mention in conversation that I've written a book about my eating disorder, most people's response is that they either struggle themselves or know someone close to them who is struggling. And then, we talk about eating disorders. We talk about it openly. I talk about my struggle openly, without shame. Because every time I talk about it, without guilt, without shame, it gives others permission to do the same. It takes away someone else's shame about their own mental health struggles and empowers them to continue on their own path to recovery.
Over the past 10 years, I have spoken on television, at symposiums alongside best selling authors, in small group therapy sessions, at treatment facilities, at universities, and at NEDA Walks. I have spoken to parents, partners, and families. I've talked to support systems, medical students, and those who are struggling to stay in recovery.
I will not stop talking about eating disorders. I will not stop talking about mental health and the importance of talking about it. The more we talk, the more we reduce the shame and the stigma surrounding these internal wars we fight in silence. In my lifetime, I hope we talk about these things enough so that the next generation removes the stigma. And the generation after that can eliminate eating disorders all together.
