Something to Try: Liberation

May 2008: I closed my eyes and stepped in the direction of recovery.

My mother was motherly; my father approved. My big-brother cousin told me I was beautiful; he was sorry he hadn’t noticed on his own.

I expected these reactions; these people knew. They shared a passenger seat in my waiting game.

Friends were my true arbiters. Friends didn’t know formally. They subscribed to my “MeCast” to varying degrees. They admired me and didn’t know Me at all.

Also, my friends were mostly superficial; I’d chosen this on purpose.

I told my boyfriend over the phone. We hadn’t been dating long but I really liked him.

“I have an eating disorder I’ve had for 9 years. I decided to move back to Minnesota to get treatment.

“…Also, I quit my job, but really I was asked to resign, for a totally separate reason. Also, I have Herpes. It’s not the venereal kind – it’s the cold sore kind, so I get cold sores on my mouth sometimes… wanted you to know… sorry.”

I had no other way to close myself into myself. I waited.

“That’s okay,” he said, “I get cold sores too.”

Seriously? What the fuck? I was taken aback.

“I wish there was something I could do,” he said. “I still want to see you or be involved in your life, if that’s okay.”

Seriously! What the fuck? Of course it is!

Profanities came first when I hung up the phone. I felt so totally in awe, and so relieved: post-orgasmic.

Two weeks of inpatient, one month of partial, two weeks of IOP, and 3 months of weekly and bimonthly checkups later, I was embarking on a new relationship.

The best way to handle a white elephant in the room is to introduce it, so I sent an e-mail.

A Facebook message, actually: “I don't really know what you're thinking about the situation [us, dating]. One thing I think you should know though … is that I had an eating disorder for 9 years prior to moving back to MN in May. Actually, that was one of my main motivators to resign and move back to MN …

“Things are going well now, but after 9 years, I liken my eating disorder to an addiction (similar to alcoholism), and I am beginning to recognize that some parts of it will probably never go completely away. That said, the past 6 months have also been difficult at times, but overall they have been very freeing. My decision to begin treatment is the best decision I have made for myself in a very long time, which is why I can be relatively open with talking about it.” http://www.facebook.com/inbox/readmessage.php?t=1049673918548&mbox_pos=20&h=52903663 (Facebook link).

His response (I don’t have saved) was something like: “hey. I got your message. That is very sweet of you to tell me, but it does not change how I feel about you at all.”

The lesson I’m learning: my eating disorder is a part of me, but it does not define me. Nor does it impair or worsen me.

When I share my eating disorder and my struggles with others whose acceptance I value, I find that I gain more acceptances in return, out of respect for my honesty.

By showing vulnerability to others, I extend a very liberating and human part of myself. By accepting my vulnerability, others offer back the same liberation.

A smile or a hug or a handshake or an e-mail generally says, “We’ve all been down a road like that. We just don’t always tell about it. Thanks.”

Try it; what do you have to lose?

Eating Disorders are Tough Shit! Did you know?

A friend from high school contacted me a while back; she noticed we had many friends in common from EDI. She shared with me that she was in treatment for an Eating Disorder.

She was cautious to approach the subject; if our mutual friends were a coincidence, I suppose this would create an awkward situation for her. What if I did not want to share my treatment experience with her, and did not respond?

I was actually very thankful to receive her story of treatment. I was reminded how sadly common eating disorders are.

I was reminded that I should not feel guilty for struggling with my eating disorder; Eating Disorders are tough shit!

Eating disorders are shrouded in isolation and secrecy; this is obviously harmful to an individual who is trying to hide an eating disorder; this is also harmful for others who struggle with eating disorders and who think they are alone and abnormal in their struggles.

EXAMPLE: When I was younger, I had an abscess on the bottom of my left foot. An abscess is a collection of pus that has accumulated in a cavity formed by the tissue on the basis of an infectious process or other foreign materials. Mine was from stepping on a nail. GROSS, right?!

When I walked I would further infect the abscess and it would drain. It smelled. Pretty gross, right, but what could I do? I had not chosen to step on a nail. I never chose for my foot to become infected. The abscess caused me to limp, and I had to take 2 weeks off from soccer; I missed my team's state meet. 

My abscess was gross, and it was grossly mentionable; however, it did not define me. To this day, my abscess does not define me. I don't even tell many people about it anymore because it no longer exists on my foot. It is so far in the past that it hardly relates.

Vomiting is grossly mentionable. It would be awkward to embark on a serious relationship with someone and not mention, "oh, but the way, I have a sickness where I vomit after every time I eat." Yuck - that's Gross! But vomiting does not define an eating disorder.

One might share something more definitive: "I am struggling right now with insecurities and obsessive thoughts. I have difficulty managing stress in my life." Who doesn't?

My boyfriend is not able to tolerate stress very well - he becomes crabby and isolates himself when he feels stressed out about work. He sometimes loses sleep over stress, and exercises less as a result. This is an unhealthy tolerance - it is also totally normal! Stress is tiring and difficult to tolerate.

As I become more mature, I care less about others' judgements. When I share a truth about myself - no matter how awkward or different my self-truth may be - most people admire me for my honesty.

Half-truths are a killer; I have a friend with an eating disorder who feels comfortable telling some close friends and family members that she has an eating disorder. However, she does not feel comfortable sharing with anyone the difficulty of her struggle. She does not feel comfortable sharing with others that she is struggling through something difficulty.

Why? More power to the individual who has something in life that is difficult to manage, and who continues to struggle to manage it nonetheless! Gumption! 

Would you judge me if I told you my abscess was very painful? Of course it was!

Perhaps if we - who struggle with eating disorders - were more vocal in our struggles, others would better understand them. Perhaps we would feel more comfortable sharing with people up-front, 

"I have an eating disorder; it is as dirty as chewing tobacco, and as difficult as any physical impairment. You cannot see my eating disorder, so you may often forget that I have it, but it is something that I will always battle.

"Fighting an eating disorder entails a difficult struggle, and it is one that I have to fight for myself. There is little you can do to help me fight my own eating disorder. However, you can help me raise awareness of eating disorders at large.

"Don't judge; eating disorders are tough, tough shit!"