Everything happens for a reason. I am a firm believer of this saying.
Hey guys! Happy Tuesday, I hope you’re all enjoying the Christmas holiday’s so far.
I’m thinking of all of those who have lost loved ones this year, and my heart feels for each and every one of you whose going through the Christmas season with less joy, but I promise you that God is taking care of them, and is providing them with the best Christmas’ you could ever imagine.
I have had loads of thoughts on my mind lately, about recovery. It’s something that I’ve realized over the last few weeks, and throughout the whole process of recovering from anorexia.
To put things into perspective, I’m going to answer some questions based on recovery, to really understand my own personal journey, and how I got to where I am right now.
How did I know I wanted to recover?
In grade 11, I walked into my english class only to hear the sad loss of a student at our school, who also happened to be a co-worker, and a friend of mine. my best-friend relayed me the news, and my initial reaction was pure shock. It almost felt like a dream, as I had just worked with her days before she had passed away. Her loss was due to natural cause, but I still couldn’t imagine how sad that must have been for her entire family, her friends, and her, because she didn’t have the chance to live as long as she had hoped. I put things into perspective that morning, my first thought was how much I take my life for granted. In this moment, I wanted to run to each person I love and tell them I loved them so much, and I also wanted to do something that I was afraid of doing, but knew it was the only way I could truly gain appreciation for my life again, and that is to give my all into recovery. Not to half-ass it, because half-assining won’t get me very far. To truly devote my time to recovering, nourishing my body and taking charge of this mental illness. At the time, I didn’t understand that it was a mental illness, I was truly convinced that it was a phase, and I was angry at myself for going through it. But as time went on I began to realize, that no, it is 100% a mental illness.
When did recovery begin?
Recovery began on valentines day of 2013. I was admitted to a mental health facility in my city, and I was assessed to see how severe my eating disorder really was. I was assessed by 3 health professionals: a nutrionist, a dietion/therapist, and a nurse practitioner. The nutrionist told me I thought about food more than what the average person does, and therefore I had an eating disorder. The nurse practitioner asked me to describe to her what my lifestyle was like, and I told her it involved a lot of exercise and not enough food, which was when I was diagnosed with anorexia athletica.
What was my first recovery meal?
I remember my mom made some kind of meat, potato and corn on the cob. I. Couldn’t. Handle it. I was so upset with my family and felt like they were betraying me, but little did I know it was purely based out of their love for me.
What was my first binge?
I was home alone when it happened, and it was really scary. I ate a full box of lucky charms cereal, half a loaf of bread, peanut butter, jam, and whatever else I could find. I remember screaming and crying, and wanted to rid my body of it all as soon as possible. I called my dad and told him what happened, all he could hear was crying and he came and picked me up, and I had my step sister talk to me and try to calm me down.
What did I learn from each binge?
Since the first time, I’ve binged on food countless times. I never could understand why I had to go through it, because I pictured myself recovering smoothly, and fast as possible. The thing is that, recovery can be a life long process. If there was no such thing as a process in recovery, than there would be no point of recovering. Recovery does;t just happen int he blink of an eye, and it certinatly isn’t perfect. There are going to be days were you think you’re good, that you don’t need to worry about eating anymore, and then suddenly you find yourself in a really tough position and can’t help but think you’re a failure. Let me tell you something, I have felt that I’ve failed myself so many times, and felt ashamed. I’ve learned to embrace those times, and I’m not just saying that. If I didn’t go through all the trials, and failed attempts, I would not be where I am in this very moment. I’d be lying to myself if I said I was recovered had I not of gone through all of the rough days, because I would have been eating less frequently and less variety, and less calories, and I would not have been helping myself.
So there you have it guys, these are some of the things that I can think of that have contributed to my journey, and that there is a purpose for all of it. I might do a second blog about the recovery, but if you have any questions that you’d like to as feel free.
Take care, and have a night!