Ask Aly: Losing Weight After Recovering From an Eating Disorder

Right before Justin and I got married, my eating disorder mentality came back without me even realizing it. I lost more weight than I should have (that I didn't need to lose in the first place) and I didn't notice how close I was to slipping back into my old destructive behaviors. Although that was two years ago, since then I've tried to put more effort into watching my thoughts and my actions so I can make sure it doesn't happen again. Over the past couple of years though, I've gained a little weight and I've been trying to grapple with how to exercise and eat healthier without laying out a welcome mat for my anorexia, bulimia, and binge eating disorders at the same time.

Thist past week, a friend messaged me about someone she knows that's going through the same thing and asked if I had any tips or thoughts on how they can be healthy and also lose weight, but not slip back into their eating disorders. While eating disorders might not ever go away, we shouldn't let them bully us around. If we want to be in control of our health, we need to be cautious with the steps we take to lose weight, have a pre-determined plan in our minds that we will stick to, be observant of our mental well-being, and constantly question what our motivations are behind losing weight or trying to become healthier. 

Exercising and changing your eating habits can seem terrifying once you've recovered from an eating disorder, but here are a couple ideas I shared with my friend that I think can help build a buffer between those two things and your past eating disorders: 

Avoid Numbers

• This is especially important with food. Don't focus on calorie amounts or anything you find on a nutrition label (fats, sugar, carbs). Instead, focus on the actual health benefits of the foods you eat and the nutritional values that come from food (vitamins, minerals, etc.). Ask yourself, what are the things that my body needs to survive and how do these foods support all that I need my body to do? Even foods that are considered "unhealthy" by the dieting world, can benefit your body. We need fats, proteins, sugars, carbs, and calories for our bodies to function and do everything they were made to do. Obviously, you shouldn't eat McDonald's every day, but there are healthier ways to watch what you eat without cutting calories or only eating fruits and vegetables for your meals--our bodies can gain something good from almost everything that we eat. 
• Don't weigh yourself and avoid scales as much as possible. Both can be major triggers and avoiding them can help you overcome a mentality where you believe your worth is equal to your weight. 

Avoid Portion Sizes

• Controlling the amount that we eat is usually the first idea that comes to anyone's mind whenever they want to lose weight. When I was first recovering from my binge eating disorder and wondering about how I was going to lose all the weight that I gained, my doctor told me that one of the best things I could do was to listen to my stomach as I ate. He went on to say that I should eat until I was full enough not to be stuffed or hungry. Mindfulness when eating is definitely an acquired talent, but it does help you be more aware of what your body needs since portion sizes sometimes end up being too much food or not enough food for what our bodies need.

Set Firm Limits

• Benjamin Franklin (according to the internet) once said, "By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail." Preparation and planning are crucial when it comes to trying to lose-weight or pick up healthier habits post-eating disorder. You need to know your triggers are and be aware of the fact that you have lurking disorders that are still with you--even if you no longer restrict your diet, purge, or binge. Understanding this and using your knowledge of yourself and your disorders to construct your workouts and food habits will increase your chances of success. For instance, if I wanted to start working out and exercising consistently, I would set a limit where I could only exercise for 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week. That way, I would be able to prevent my eating disorders from pushing me to extremes. 

Avoid the Gym

• Especially if you are newly recovered from your eating disorder, avoid exercising in a gym at all costs. They usually have a competitive atmosphere and it's easier to compare your body to those around you in such an enclosed, intensely-focused space (both can be huge triggers for disordered behaviors). Instead, try to exercise in your home or outside where competition and judgment are less likely. 

Involve Friends and Family

• While not everyone has family or friends that are aware of their eating disorders, both can be valuable tools when you're trying to lose weight or start healthier habits. If you feel comfortable with it, check in regularly with a someone about how your eating and exercising plans are going. (Keeping a journal where you can record any signs of your eating disorder coming back could also work if you have not told those closest to you about your eating disorder. You can use it to track your triggers and figure out if you are in a good spot to be exercising or changing your eating habits.) Be open and honest with them and with yourself. You could even ask for friends or family members to exercise with you. However, if you do this, make sure you are aware of your thoughts and feelings when exercising with another person. If you feel competitive towards them or judgemental towards yourself, stop immediately and figure out another way to involve them in your efforts. 

Check In With Yourself

• When you are exercising or trying to eat healthier, listen to your thoughts and how you talk to yourself. Constantly ask yourself what your motivators are and why you are exercising or eating healthier. If your answers have anything to do with your appearance or weight, stop immediately and reassess your plan. Both of those motivators (along with any other motivators that are similar in nature) have nothing to do with health and everything to do with your eating disorders. 

Be Patient and Keep it Gradual

• While losing weight quickly is really unhealthy and really bad for your body (heart issues, metabolism issues, organ stress), it also makes it much easier to redevelop an eating disorder (especially anorexia and bulimia, since the goal of both disorders is to lose weight fast). So, make sure you are patient with yourself and your progress. Celebrate the small victories and use that time to learn to love your body at all shapes, weights, and sizes. It took me three years to lose the weight I gained from my binge eating disorder and I feel like I grew more from that experience than I would have if I gave into diet culture and pushed myself as hard as could to lose weight in the shortest amount of time possible. It also helped me learn to understand which thoughts were mine, and which thoughts came from my eating disorders too. Weight loss and creating healthier habits is a process, not a race. 

Learning how to navigate your body after recovering from an eating disorder can be hard! Don't be afraid of yourself or your body, but remember to be aware of your disorders. If you want to lose weight, make sure that you focus on your overall health, rather than your size. Try to focus on how the exercise you are doing makes your body stronger and how the foods you are eating will help your body reach its full potential. 

Basically, when it comes to exercise and eating healthier, the end goal shouldn't be becoming skinnier, because, like a lot of us who have recovered from eating disorders know, being skinny does not necessarily mean that you're healthy.

 In fact, it usually means the exact opposite. 

Acne

Throughout high school, I was pretty lucky when it came to acne. This was probably due to the fact that when I was anorexic, I only ate "clean" or "safe" foods that were low in carbs, calories, and fats--if I ate anything (Disclaimer: I do not recommend this and no one should use eating like this an excuse for clear skin. It is disordered eating.). The same was true during my binge eating disorder, but rather than my skin remaining clear as a result of what I was (and was not) eating,  I'm pretty sure the only reason why my skin remained clear was because my body knew that having bad acne would have broken my already fragile self-esteem into oblivion. It would have given me one more reason to hate my body and to hate myself. It might have even pushed me to suicide.

As shallow as it sounds, having clear skin helped me feel a little bit better about myself--even on my worst days.

Fast-forward to about a year ago. I was dating Justin and things were going great. Well, mostly great except for one thing. I had started to get acne for the first time in my life. I was embarrassed that what most people had experienced in their teens was happening to me as an adult. I became even more self-conscious than I normally was and my perceptions of myself were largely determined by how many zits I had on my face that day. I was worried that Justin would think less of me or think I was less attractive because of it. I ended up buying as many over-the-counter cleansers, oil-removers, and acne medications as I could find; I even resorted to scouring the internet for hours and buying products from Korea and Japan in the hopes that they would make me somewhat attractive again. I eventually went to see a dermatologist, but getting rid of my acne wasn't easy. The topical medication was expensive and the oral medication made me throw up. But I was willing to do anything to make it go away. I eventually was tired of feeling sick from the medication and I stopped taking it. My skin did pretty well for a while, but things picked back up again around Christmas of that year. It was bad. It wasn't that I had a zit here and there on my face, but my entire forehead was covered in large, cystic pimples. To make things worse, I tired to pick at the zits, which made some scab over and made others become inflamed. I was so embarrassed that I wore a bandanna headband everyday for two weeks so no one could see just how 'ugly' I had become. I was insecure around Justin and whenever he told me I was beautiful, I thought he was saying it out of pity. I mean, he saw what I saw in the mirror and so did everyone else around me--I thought they thought of me like I thought of me. That they thought I was ugly and disgusting. There were even nights where I would quietly cry myself to sleep out of frustration and self-loathing or instances where I would avoid experiences altogether out of shame.

When it was at its worst this past December
(the lighting in the picture doesn't really show
how intense it was)

The bandana headband
(Also, don't mind Jesus in the background haha)

In a lot of ways, I guess I relived the same emotions I experienced during my disorders.

Luckily, Justin caught on to what was happening pretty fast (one of the best things about being married is that you never have to go through things alone). Noticing that I was depressed and struggling, he looked at me one night and said, "Alyson, acne and beauty aren't mutually exclusive". And he was right.

I still struggle with feeling my best when I have zits or scabs from zits on my face, but I'm starting to realize that my beauty--and more importantly, who I am, is not negatively influenced by some red dots on my face. I am more than a few imperfections in my complexion.

Acne and beauty are not mutually exclusive.
Neither are acne and self-worth;
Acne and self-esteem;
Acne and love;
Acne and good experiences;
Or acne and anything positive in life.

For a while I gave myself a hard time for feeling insecure about my appearance because I thought that since I had overcome my disorders I was better than this and that I had control over most of my insecurities. That I had already overcome my body image issues and that I shouldn't still be struggling. However, I'm starting to realize that body-dysmorphia, low self-esteem, and body image issues tend to manifest themselves in more than one way and in more than one area of our lives. How we feel about ourselves is a complex, multi-faceted experience. While we may overcome one facet that we struggle with (like being okay with stretch marks or wearing a swimsuit in public), we may also still struggle with another area of our appearance (like having acne in my case). Learning to love yourself isn't easy,  however, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be proud of progress we have made in the past or be intimidated by how large of a challenge learning to like ourselves may seem. The best thing we can do is take things one day or one facet at a time and be kind to ourselves.

Another thing that I've realized as I've gone through this experience is that while it's pretty easy to love yourself, it can be ridiculously hard to like yourself. For example, I love who I am, but I don't necessarily like my appearance when I have acne strewn across my face. Why is it that when we see someone else with an 'flaw' that we have (like acne in my case), we are less harsh toward them than we are towards ourselves? When someone else has a zit on their face I don't instanteously like them any less or think any less of them. Sometimes, I don't even notice if there are any zits on their face in the first place. However, when it is on my own face, I tend to use it as an excuse to bully myself for something that is out of my control and I project how I feel about myself onto others.

For a while, I thought that in order to be beautiful, I had to have perfect skin--just like I used to think that I had to have the 'perfect' body in order to love myself, like myself, or be myself. Perfection does not constitute beauty, it is a toxic and obsessive illusion. I may never have clear or perfect skin again for the rest of my life, but does that make me any less beautiful or any less beautiful of a person? No. Should I use my acne as an excuse to miss out on my own life? No. Am I less deserving of love and self-worth because of my acne? Definitely not. Should I be ashamed of my acne? No, because being getting acne is a completely normal human experience.

Acne isn't inherently negative, ugly, or bad by nature, it is only when we attribute those traits to acne that it becomes such. Acne happens, and that's okay.

Although I'm not completely comfortable walking around without makeup or going without covering my forehead when I have a bad breakout, I'm slowly starting to be okay with having obvious acne on my face. I'll admit that I carry around a bag of makeup with me now so that I can cover my face throughout the day, that I'm on a new acne medication plan that has reduced how intense my breakouts are, that I try to use filters to minimize my acne in photos, and that I get embarrassed to go out in public when nothing I do to cover my zits seems to work; but the crying and the disgust I used to feel when I looked in the mirror have stopped. I don't let little (or big) red marks on my face determine how I feel about myself or my life.

Because acne and beauty are not mutually exclusive. 

Okay.

Today, it took 30 minutes to convince myself that eating an oatmeal cream pie after eating a candy bar earlier in the day was okay.

10 minutes ago, I spit out half of a different cookie because I couldn't make myself eat the whole thing after already eating two "bad" foods today.


I'm beginning to realize that I've been lying to myself lately.


When I first started dating Justin, I was finally coming out of my eating disorder and feeling confident about my body at whatever size it was. I started to realize though that my post-disorder weight-loss was finally manifesting itself about two months into our relationship. I loved it. I loved being back to feeling healthy again. I think I loved looking "healthy" even more. It didn't start intentionally at first--cutting back at meals and eating smaller portions. It just happened gradually. I liked what I was seeing in the mirror, but with every glance at myself, my eating disorder started to fester inside of me again.

When Justin was concerned about me not eating enough, I would tell him that I just had a small stomach--which was true, but only because I was making it that way. Before our wedding, I lost weight and my wedding dress was actually too big for me. On our honeymoon, I only ate the crusts off of my french toast at breakfast one morning. Sure, I ate, but I wasn't eating like I should have been. I wasn't eating like someone who had overcome three eating disorders should be. I would eat large meals now and again without being phased, lying to myself and saying; "See! You're okay! You just ate something you would have never eaten during your disorders!", but I was wrong. Sure, I wasn't anorexic or a binge eater, but I wasn't "okay". Some days it feels like I'll never be. This wasn't anywhere close to how I was when I was anorexic, but I easily could have continued down that path. I liked that the pants I had bought nine months ago were too big on me. I liked that shirts felt loose on my shoulders. I liked that I could put my hands on my waist and not strain to have my fingers touch my bellybutton.

From day one, Justin told me that he loved me at any weight, but part of me was afraid to believe him. Part of me was afraid to wait and see what would happen if I gained weight. I guess I was mostly afraid of myself. Before we got married, my sister came up to me and asked if I was doing okay. I said I was because compared to my past, I was doing better. I mean, I was eating regularly and not restricting myself to celery and crushed ice like I had before...but the calorie counter in my head was dusted off and ready to go. Food started to become a number, not a source of nutrition.

To be honest, I've never forgotten the calorie amounts that I forced myself to memorize back in high school.

Initially, I was baffled that I kept losing weight, but I'm starting to realize just how complicit I actually was. When I was trying on wedding dresses, I happily credited most of the samples fitting me to my recent weight loss--I was relieved.I remember being proud of myself for not obsessing over how dresses looked on me, but I think I was actually just proud to be thin. I don't think I necessarily wanted to lose weight though, I think it was a matter of me liking the fact that I was finally making visible progress down from my binge eating weight and being okay with going a little further--losing a little bit more.

But that's how disorders get you.

I just re-discovered this picture while I was looking through our wedding photos :)

I love being married to my best friend!

Since we've gotten married, my fear of gaining weight has come back in full swing. Sometimes, I'll look at my profile in the mirror and push my fat towards my ribs to see what I would look like with a flatter, anorexic, stomach again. I mention in passing to Justin once or twice a week that I've gained weight and pretend like it isn't a big deal. But it is. I've done it so much that last night, I started to say something while I was standing in front of the mirror and Justin instantly thought that I was going to ask him if I was had gained weight. A couple of times, I've fantasized about kneeling next to the toilet and throwing up. I've fantasized about the hunger that comes from intentionally starving yourself. I've fantasized about a nightmare.

 I still consider myself recovered, but am I as okay as I thought I was a year ago? No.

I love my body and since I've noticed these behaviors coming back, I've tried to be mindful of them. I watch them, I counter them, but sometimes, like today, I fall short. Back when I was an eating disorder mentor on campus, my catchphrase was: "Recovery is real" and I still believe that it is. However, I'm starting to realize more and more lately that recovery isn't necessarily instant or long-lasting freedom from a disorder. Relapse is an incredibly common reality for anyone who has recovered from an eating disorder (check out this awesome video by Blythe Baird on relapse--it actually was one of the biggest motivators for me writing this post finally), it isn't anything to be ashamed of and it's okay to struggle. What isn't okay is deciding not to struggle against things that are hard or allowing shame to diminish the magnitude of our past accomplishments. Just because I'm stumbling now, doesn't mean I shouldn't stand tall for overcoming three disorders in the past or that I'm a failure. While we're talking about relapse, I think it's also important to note that relapse comes in all shapes and sizes. Spitting out a few cookies or counting how many calories are in a bowl of pasta do not mean that I've fallen back into an eating disorder--disordered eating, yes, but a disorder, no. I don't want anyone to mistake that last sentence as me brushing off the severity of my actions because I'm not. Things aren't as great as I'd like them to be, but I think it's important to recognize that things also aren't as bad as they could be. Yes, I acknowledge calories more than I'd like to, I'm more afraid of the implications of eating than I should be, and I'm afraid of what'll happen to my self-esteem if I gain a significant amount of weight in the near future, but have I become anorexic, bulimic, or a binge eater again? No.

And I don't plan on letting that happen ever again.

One of my main reasons for writing this post is to let others who have recovered from their disorders, but still struggle, still fight, still get exhausted by their own thoughts, that they aren't alone. That they aren't a failure. That they shouldn't be too hard on themselves because recovery isn't easy.

We're in this together.
And I think we'll be okay.

New Years Resolution 2017

Wow! I can't believe that it's already New Years Eve!

Marrying Justin was definitely the highlight of 2016 for me :)

This time last year, I couldn't even fathom the changes that would be coming my way in 2016 (especially marriage), but I think I've done a pretty good job with adjusting my sails to the upcoming year. While the New Year brings with it new hopes, new goals, and new expectations, I think that sometimes we use the New Year as an excuse to criticize ourselves and bully our appearances (it also doesn't help that dieting companies and gyms often amp up advertising around this time to remind us of our "inadequacies" so that we'll buy their products and become our "best" selves). For the past few years, I've tried to write a post on or around New Years Eve to talk about my goals for myself in the upcoming year; this year though, I want to try something different. This year, I want to challenge myself and all of you to be kinder to ourselves in making New Years resolutions than we were in years prior. Also, while it's okay to want to become healthier, making resolutions that involve weight loss are often a double-edged sword.

If you're at a weight that you're not comfortable with, that's okay! Your weight doesn't determine whether you're a success or a failure; your weight doesn't validate or invalidate your existence; and your weight definitely does not serve as a determinate for happiness or unhappiness. No matter what you weigh, you're still you--and who you are is beautiful and worth loving. We need to learn to love ourselves and be happy with ourselves without strings attached and before we consider losing weight. If you're only happy and comfortable once you fit into those jeans your wore in high school or if you weigh the same weight as you did at a previous point in your life, your happiness becomes narrowed and your expectations of yourself become toxic. Additionally, losing weight doesn't necessarily solve all your problems; sometimes, it creates problems instead (like the development of anorexia and bulimia in my case). Often, we're our harshest judges and as a result, make false or unsupported assumptions about ourselves based off of how we think others see us.

 If you are considering making a goal to lose weight this year (which is totally fine--I'm not condemning losing weight, but instead the negative and harmful reasons that often pressure us to feel the need to lose weight in the first place), I would suggest that instead of dieting, consider making goals that involve self-acceptance and also take the time to question why you feel the need to lose weight in the first place. Why? Because this worked for me (also, most diets often result in eating disorders, fail after few weeks, cause unhealthy relationships with food, and result weight gain as well). Since overcoming my binge eating disorder four years ago (I still can't believe it's been that long--time really does heal you and complete recovery is always a reality), I've lost a significant amount of weight though countering my own negative thoughts about myself, assessing my sources of self-worth, developing a healthy relationship with food, and realizing that what I eat and what I weigh don't define me. Sure, it's not a quick way to lose weight (it's taken me about three years to get all of the disorder weight off), but it's healthier for you than any diet plan out there both mentally and physically. 

The best diet is not to diet and the best way to make a New Years resolution is to build yourself up first, rather tearing yourself down. 

I hope that 2017 is a great year for all of you and I'm excited to see where this new year takes us (one of my resolutions is to get back in the swing of posting regularly)! 

Oh, and Happy New Year!

Interviewed

Justin (my insanely talented husband) filmed me and my eating disorder story for his final project in his film production class this semester. For those of you who have followed me for a while, most of what I talk about is probably old news, but in the video I go over my history with eating disorders and my road to recovery.

Check it out below!

Defined

The other day my boyfriend and I were looking through my high school scrapbook.

As I was flipping through the pages, I caught myself feeling embarrassed for appearing to be three different people in my pictures due the disorders I was going through at the time (Anorexic Alyson, "Normal" Alyson, and Binge Eating Alyson).

For some reason, I felt the need to hide myself from him and skim past who I was.

With each picture we saw, I would tell him: "This was when I was anorexic" or "This was when I was a binge eater" as a way of explanation and apology before I would tell him the stories behind each picture.

But after this went on for a few minutes, he stopped me and said, "Alyson, you aren't defined by your disorders".

Isn't he the cutest? 

I sat there with the book in my hands, looking at the pictures in front of me.
He was right.
How had I forgotten that?

I'm defined by my disorders in the sense that they made me who I am today because they shaped a crucial time in my life. They're a part of me and always will be, but lately I've come to realize that they aren't my only story. They were who I was, but not who I am.

I am Alyson first, an eating disorder survivor second.

I think the hardest part of this is trying to see memories from that time of my life as separate from the disorders that coincided with them. In the moment, my disorders dictated every aspect of my life. They were always there in the forefront of my thoughts; I was always afraid, always angry, and always in pain. They influenced everything and nothing in my life was untouched by them. Relationships, thoughts, work, shopping, school...you name it. When I look at my past, I see my disorders first because in the moment my disorders came first in every respect.

When I got my wisdom teeth out, I only ate sugar-free jello for two weeks because it's all I would let myself eat.

When I was playing my last season of soccer, I would binge before practice and purge in the park bathrooms.

When I was in San Francisco for choir tour, I cried in a stairwell while my friends went swimming because I hated my body so much.

Although I can't change the influence that my disorders had on my past, I want to change how they influence my future by changing how I remember my past. Rather than just categorizing my life events into Anorexia, Bulimia, or Binge Eating, I want to try to make a constant effort to see the memories behind the photographs before I see anything else.

Like when my friends brought me a Slurpee after I had my wisdom teeth taken out.

When I was the captain of my competition soccer team and we took second in our division.

When I had the best red bean doughnut of my life at a small bakery in Chinatown during choir tour and spent the whole trip hanging out with friends.

Just like I'm more than my disorders now, I was more than my disorders then.
The disorders may have stolen time from me, but they didn't steal my life.

One of my favorite quotes is: "Don't let a bad day make you feel like you have a bad life". But maybe in my case, I should change it to: "Don't let a few years of eating disorders make you feel like they were your life".

Because they weren't.

New Year, New Stuff, Old Problems

Along with the new year, a lot of new changes are coming to the blog--like video posts! Thanks for all of your support this past year, I couldn't have done it without you!

What are some of your resolutions for the new year? I'd love to hear about them in the comment section below!

Undetected

I saw this video on Tumblr a couple of weeks ago and today, I found time to watch it.

As I was listening to what she had to say, I realized something.

This was exactly how my life was when I was anorexic and this is exactly how some people reacted to me losing weight.

I didn't realize that I needed to lose weight until I was cropped out of a picture because of the way that I looked or until my friend told me it was gross that I could feel my stomach jiggle when I walked to the front of the class.

When I first started loosing weight, no one said anything.
I mean, my family teased me that I measured everything that I ate according to the serving size on the box,
but that was it.
Then, once I dropped the first twenty pounds, the questions and compliments came like a flood.

"You look great!"
"You have curves in the right places!"
"What's your secret?"
"You're so skinny!"
"You're beautiful!"
"You look great!"
"Everything looks good on you!"
"You didn't need to loose the weight, but wow, you look even better now."
"I have to admit that I've been checking you out."
"I wish I looked like you!"
"You look great!"
"I wish I had your will power!"
"I want to lose weight too, can you give me some tips?"
...

"You should be a nutritionist or a dietitian."

...

"You look great!"
"You look great!"

"You look great!"

"You look great!"

Me: "...I do look great."

They all fed my ego and kept me going.
I even flattered myself enough to think that I should be a missionary of my higher cause,
Shed light on other people's "unhealthy" lives and teach them my gospel.

When I was skinny, I was powerful.
Beautiful.
Strong.
An example.

More boys liked me and more girls envied me.

No one sends a fat girl who looses weight to the hospital.
They put her on a pedestal.

I kept going and going.

I ate celery as if it were manna.
I drank crystal light instead of soda.
I brought my own snacks to parties and looked at restaurant nutrition guides.
I counted everything and ate nothing.

A relative of mine pulled me in front of some girls close to my age and told them to be like me.
To follow what I did.
To listen to what I had to say.
Because they were close to the size that I was before I lost weight.
And if I could do it, they could.

Now, one of them has a disorder of her own.

Once I hit my goal weight, I figured I could keep going.
So, I lowered my calorie limit and pressed on.

I felt strong for being resistant to the slices of cake at birthday parties.
I felt strong for eating salad without dressing.
I felt strong for withstanding the constant pang of hunger in my stomach,
the constant cold,
and how tired I always was.

I slowly started to realize that being skinny didn't necessarily equate to being happy.

I had a mental breakdown on a family vacation because my parents didn't buy any of my safe foods for me to eat.
I yelled at my mom when she told me I was too skinny.
I ran from my friends when they tried to force-feed me ice cream after a dance we went to.

I thought that I didn't have an eating disorder because I was still technically eating.
I thought this was how I was always supposed to look.

Counting everything and eating nothing.
I had the calories of any food memorized in my head.
I was a human calculator.
I knew how much everything was and how much I couldn't eat.
Food wasn't food.
It was a number,
A restriction,
An enemy.

I felt my prettiest when I was hungry.
When I could see the indents of my ribs against the thinness of my skin.
When I could see that even the smallest size was a little too big for me.
I loved feeling weak.
Fragile.
Breakable.

When I couldn't stop losing weight, I started to get scared.
I couldn't make myself eat more than I was eating.
I felt guilty when I ate an extra handful of pretzels or a full meal.
It was like a boulder that I couldn't stop from crushing me.

"If you are not recovering, you are dying."

Luckily, I was bullied at school around that time and I was pushed out of anorexia and into another disorder, binge eating.
Instead of hating food, I relied on it.
I needed it to make me forget how much I hated myself and how much others apparently hated me.
I needed the constant pain in my stomach from being too full to numb me from the words of others.

I gained back more weight than I lost.
I was disappointed with myself and I hated my body.
I was always hungry, but it was different this time.
I forgot how to be full.
I could never eat enough.
Instead of ignoring my hunger, I couldn't turn my hunger off.

From 15-18, I had experienced being "overweight, underweight, and obese."

I lost my high school experience within the calories, the scales, and the dieting.
I lost my innocence.
And for a while, I lost me.

If I wasn't my disorders, who was I?

With recovery, I learned that even if no one else did, I wanted me.
I wanted the real me.
The fat me.
The "ugly" me.
Me with all my baggage.

I wanted me to be happy.
I wanted me to eat.
I wanted me to stop crying at night.
I wanted me to like me.

Eating disorders are one of the hardest addictions to overcome.
Unlike cigarettes or alcohol, you can't just stop using it.
You have to eat to live.

You can't shut yourself off in a room, flush it down the toilet, avoid driving by places that have it, wear a patch on your arm, or quit cold turkey.

But it can be done.

However, I feel like a lot of eating disorders--like mine, go undetected for far too long.

Because it's rare that losing weight is considered unhealthy.

Ask Aly: Reaching Out

What advice would you give those who suspect a friend/loved one has an eating disorder?  What is the best way to approach the subject and/or help them and give them the support they need?  What kind of actions/reactions/support do you -or did you- wish your family would have done to help you in the many different phases?

Sorry!  I see you addressed most of my questions in a previous post I had somehow missed.  So that just leaves the first question - what to do if they don't approach you or tell you?

Hi there!

One thing that I've learned since recovering from my disorders, is that once you've had an eating disorder, you can spot the telltale signs of one from a mile away.  However, even though I can spot people who may have disorders or disorder tendencies on a daily basis, it's something that I can't and won't directly confront them about (even if they are friends or family) until they have personally told me themselves what they are going through.

So, what can you do if you've heard that someone you know might have a disorder or if you strongly believe that they might have one?

Nothing.
And by that, I don't mean you should actually do nothing.

If you are worried about someone, you definitely should take action, but it's all in how you take that action. If they haven't approached or told you about what they're going through, the best thing that you can do is to take action behind the scenes and leave breadcrumbs for them to follow when they're ready to start the recovery process. If they are ready for help and have told you personally, then you can go full-force and help them find treatment etc.

The trick with approaching someone that you either think or know has an eating disorder is all within how you word things. One thing that's important to remember is that no one wants to be accused of being something they aren't or think they aren't. If you're concerned about someone and they haven't approached you about it yet, there's no harm in asking if they're doing okay. However, it's important to remember that they have the right to heal according to their own timeline (unless they are in immediate danger--you could probably directly address the fact that they have an eating disorder in a situation like this, but again, you would have to be delicate in how you approach that topic) and to keep their own secrets until they're ready to share them.

Here are a couple of sample conversations:

1. You: "Are you doing okay?"
    Them: "Yes, why?"
    You: "I've noticed that you've lost/gained a lot of weight lately and I was worried about you."

2. You: "Are you doing okay? I've noticed that you haven't been eating lately."
    Them: "Yeah, I'm doing fine--I've just been stressed out with school (could be a lie); thanks for asking though!"
    You (knowing that it could be a lie): You're welcome! I was worried about you. Let me know if can do anything to    help with your stress!"

3. You: "Are you okay? You spent a lot of time in the bathroom after dinner."
    Them: "I'm fine."
    You: "Good! I was worried about you!"

4. You: "Hey, I've noticed that you've been going into the kitchen late at night to eat, are doing okay?"
    Them: "...no."
    You: "What can I do to help you?"

In all of these sample conversations, the person asking the questions (you) never once straight out said that or asked if the other person had an eating disorder--which is probably the most important thing that you can do in situations like this. I remember when I was anorexic, my mom told me that I had taken my dieting too far and I was being reckless with my health. Although she was right, her comment made me incredibly defensive and caused me to shut myself off from her help. I also started to do more things behind her back as well.

Additionally, it's important to start conversations like this in private and not in a group setting. No one wants to be embarrassed or feel like its them against everyone else. Also, if they say that they are okay, don't press them for the answer that you want or the truth that you think they are hiding. Accept it and make sure to let them know that you're there to help if they need anything.

One of the best things about approaching someone with a disorder in this way is that if they're in denial, your words can plant a seed in their head and cause them to reexamine what they're doing. If they aren't in denial, it lets them know that someone has caught on to what's going on and that you're there to help if they need it.

Again, it's important not to accuse or call them out on their behaviors if you want them to genuinely recover. It has to be a decision that they make, not that they're resentfully forced in to. I found that I was able to fully recover from my binge eating disorder because I was the one to notice it and I was the one to take the initiative. By starting the recovery process through myself, I was able to take full responsibility for my recovery because my disorder was something that I fully acknowledged and wanted to end.

One way that I like to think of an eating disorder is to liken it to a house with a door that only has one handle which is on the inside where the eating disorder victim lives. People can knock on the door and try to get the victim to open it and come out, but ultimately it's up to the person inside of the house to open the door. They get to choose when to let you in and then they choose when they're ready to walk out of the house. You can't just break down the door on them and expect things to be okay.

Aside from talking with them, there also other things that you can do to help:

• Compliment them on their non-physical traits, build up their self-esteem
• Don't compliment them on their weight loss
• Don't let them talk negatively about themselves or their bodies
• Don't talk negatively about yourself or your body around them
• Help them not feel bad about the food that they've eaten
• Don't count calories, criticize the food that you've eaten, or talk about diets around them.
• Keep in contact with them so that they can feel comfortable talking with you when they're ready; check up on them after talking to them too
• Keep them company while they eat and after they eat so that they can be distracted from the thoughts of the disorder and purging methods
• Serve them, let them know that they are loved 

Before I finish this, I have one last thought to add. When I was going through my disorders, hardly anyone noticed that anything was wrong or that I was struggling--especially during the binge eating. It hurt. I was so frustrated that no one was reaching out to me and that I had no one to talk to. That no one realized how miserable I was. Although I didn't necessarily want to talk about my disorder, I just wanted someone to notice what was going on. Someone to reach out to. Someone to be there to catch me. Someone to care.

I think that the fact that you want to help and are aware of what this person is going through is a great first step. I can't guarantee that things will go smoothly even if you're incredibly careful with how you help them, but just make sure that you use good judgement while trying to help them.


Good luck!

*To submit a question, you can either use the submission app on the sidebar of the blog or email me at: tomyfullestblog@gmail.com*

Finding the Sunshine: My Story

For those of you that may have missed it, here's the full version of the post that I wrote for Finding the Sunshine ! 

I was 14 years old when I first began my journey with eating disorders.

Although I had struggled with body dysmorphia for as long as I could remember, I didn't do anything to drastically change my body until the beginning of tenth grade. I decided to follow the "advice" of my health teacher and start a "calorie deficit" diet to lose weight (which I now realize didn't need to be lost in the first place).

The diet quickly turned into more than a weight loss plan, it was a disorder...an obsession. I was constantly preoccupied with counting calories and controlling my food intake--I was convinced that I was being "healthy". Food was always in the forefront of my thoughts and I was always hungry; I would go to bed starving just so I could eat breakfast in the morning. However, during this time I wasn't willing to accept that what I was doing was wrong. I was happily miserable.

Towards the beginning of eleventh grade, I was bullied. I became depressed and turned to the one thing that I had been denying myself in order to find comfort: food. This quickly turned into a different disorder known as binge eating disorder. I would go into my family's kitchen and gorge on food for hours on end until my stomach couldn't take it anymore. I hated myself and it was also during this time that I became suicidal. 

Dr. Michael Spigarelli was the first person to tell me that an eating disorder--of any kind, is a (curable) mental disease; my disorders were not me or my fault. Additionally, he made sure to emphasize that depression and anxiety are often linked to disordered behaviors as well and also can act as catalysts for disorders to begin. Thanks to him, my therapist, and antidepressants, I was able to overcome my disease along with the depression that resulted. 

In all honesty, this was an incredibly dark time in my life; I had no hope for myself or for my future. There were times when I couldn't and didn't want to find the sunshine in anything. I accepted and feared that my life would always be a constant battle against myself; it felt as if I was slowly burying myself in a grave that I wouldn't be able to climb out of.

Although I'm painting a pretty dark picture of my past, things weren't always completely terrible. My faith in God acted as an anchor when all else failed. To Him, I wasn't a lost cause. He saw my potential and the person that I would become once I overcame my disorder. He constantly gave me moments of joy and relief from the hurricane of emotions and stress that I was experiencing. He blessed me with wonderful friends, wonderful doctors, and wonderful opportunities for change.

He saved me.

His love was like the sunrise after an endless night.

As I began taking steps towards recovery, I was able to find sunshine in the small things too, like going a day or two without bingeing or purging; going a day without hating my body, or being able to eat one meal as a "normal" person would.

Medication definitely helped me as well. Recovery was a lot easier once the burden of depression was eased from my shoulders.

From all of this, I was slowly able to take larger and more confident strides towards recovery. And as I did, my pathway seemed to become illuminated with a light that I had forgotten existed.

Although it wasn't easy to keep that light burning, by constantly picking myself up and brushing off my mistakes as I stumbled along that path, I was able to slowly find my way back into the warmth of the sun.

I’ve learned that the best way to find sunshine through eating disorders, depression, or any other trial, is to be easy on yourself and accept your own pace--recovery doesn’t happen in a day.  Find joy in the small victories and learn from your losses. Remember to tell yourself that: “Even if I fall on my face, I’m still moving forward”.

Also, there is no shame in using medication to overcome a mental disease or illness--like physical diseases and illnesses, they should be treated and can be cured.

I know for a fact that I would not be where I am (or even alive) today without the help of antidepressants, medical care, and counseling.

Although I've been officially recovered for almost a year now, I still try to find the sunshine within the trials that I experienced. In order to do this, I refuse to see myself as a victim of the mental disorders and diseases I’ve experienced. They were terrible and difficult, but they made me into who I am today. To me, feeling sorry for myself would be like taking a step backwards into the darkness that I had worked so hard to emerge from.

Going through my eating disorder (and the depression that followed) was like being thrown into a cold, dark cave. At times I had to crawl on my knees and cling to it’s walls to move forward, but eventually I saw the light that existed outside of it. I continued to move forward and eventually, the closer I got to the light, the easier things became. Instead of crawling, I was able to stand. Instead of walking and clinging to walls, I was able to run without any supports.

And let me tell you,

Now that I’m out of the cave, I can see sunshine everywhere.

Finding the Sunshine

This week, Rachel from Finding the Sunshine (a blog about depression and overcoming mental illness) and I decided to do a collaboration! She asked me to write a post for her blog about how I've "found the sunshine" despite my challenges with eating disorders, and how other people can do the same.

Here's a preview of what I had to say, but make sure to check out Rachel's blog to see the full post tomorrow!

I was 14 years old when I first began my journey with eating disorders.

Although I had struggled with body dysmorphia for as long as I could remember, I didn't do anything to drastically change my body until the beginning of tenth grade. I decided to follow the "advice" of my health teacher and start a "calorie deficit" diet to lose weight (which I now realize didn't need to be lost in the first place).

Around when I first started to "diet".

The diet quickly turned into more than a weight loss plan, it was a disorder...an obsession. I was constantly preoccupied with counting calories and controlling my food intake--I was convinced that I was being "healthy". Food was always in the forefront of my thoughts and I was always hungry; I would go to bed starving just so I could eat breakfast in the morning. However, during this time I wasn't willing to accept that what I was doing was wrong. I was happily miserable.

At my lowest--not healthiest, weight. 

Towards the beginning of eleventh grade, I was bullied. I became depressed and turned to the one thing that I had been denying myself in order to find comfort: food. This quickly turned into a different disorder known as binge eating disorder. I would go into my family's kitchen and gorge on food for hours on end until my stomach couldn't take it anymore. I hated myself and it was also during this time that I became suicidal. 

Dr. Michael Spigarelli was the first person to tell me that an eating disorder--of any kind, is a (curable) mental disease; my disorders were not me or my fault. Additionally, he made sure to emphasize that depression and anxiety are often linked to disordered behaviors as well and also can act as catalysts for disorders to begin. Thanks to him, my therapist, and antidepressants, I was able to overcome my disease along with the depression that resulted. 

In all honesty, this was an incredibly dark time in my life; I had no hope for myself or for my future. There were times when I couldn't and didn't want to find the sunshine in anything. I accepted and feared that my life would always be a constant battle against myself; it felt as if I was slowly burying myself in a grave that I wouldn't be able to climb out of.

Ask Aly: Accepting Help

How can people with eating disorders reach out for and accept help from others? Eating has always been very personal for me. I don't know how I can include loved ones in my recovery journey when I can't even be honest with myself about my eating habits.

Hi there!

Accepting help from others and being honest with yourself are two of the hardest--but also most important, steps that anyone can take when trying to overcome an eating disorder. Personally, I really struggled with both throughout all three of my disorders; however, I realize now that being honest with myself enabled me to reach out and accept help from others when I was ready.

When I was anorexic, I was in complete denial about what I was doing. I thought that because I was the smallest I had ever been in my life, I was also my healthiest (which is definitely not true for anyone). Whenever friends or family tried to reach out to me, I would push them away and justify my actions. Not only did I make myself miserable, but I made them miserable as well.

My relationship with my family--especially my mom, became really strained when I became a binge eater. However, it was during this time that I was finally able to start accepting that my previous "diet" was an eating disorder and that turning to food for comfort (I would eat uncontrollably for hours in order to forget my depression, how much I hated myself, or to forget how I was treated at school) was a disorder as well. Despite realizing this, I had a lot of emotions trapped inside of me. My family didn't really know how to handle me, my depression, or my disorder; no matter what they did or said to help, it was wrong. I hated them for not understanding what I was going through or for not understanding in the way that I needed them to. Because of this, everyone tip-toed around me like  I was a bomb that was waiting to go off...which only made things worse.

Eventually, I went to a therapist and she helped me gain more control of my emotions and my relationship with my family.

Like you said, eating is a personal thing and I think eating disorders are even more so. I think that's one reason why connecting with others throughout recovery is so hard. Eating disorders are unique to each individual who experiences them--but they aren't something that you can overcome on your own. Just like it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a strong (and diverse) support group to heal an eating disorder victim.

Looking back, I think that the most important step that I took towards being honest with myself was telling my mom that I thought I had a binge eating disorder and then looking for medical help. From there, I was able to find professionals who gave me the tools and support that I needed to heal--and with this, Elaine Cheung, my therapist, was a godsend. I sincerely believe that having an unbiased, third-party to talk to was one of the best resources that I could have had--especially at the beginning of my recovery. Talking to family members--or even friends, about eating disorders or other emotional experiences, will always have strong emotional consequences on both sides...there can be a lot of unintended misunderstanding. My therapist looked at me objectively which allowed me to say things to her that I couldn't have said to others--she allowed me to talk about my relationships at home without offending anyone at home. By doing this, I was slowly able to release a lot of emotional pressure within myself and get to a state of relative calm where I could then move forward and take bigger strides towards recovery.

Another thing that I came to realize is that you have to give those around you some slack. I think a lot of my fear and frustration towards my family came from me expecting them to perfectly understand what I was going through--which they never could have done; not because they didn't want to, but rather because they couldn't. Well-meant sympathy is never the same as empathy. They also weren't eating disorder specialists. I expected them to save me when they were just as lost with how to help me as I was. I was so focused on myself drowning, that it was hard to see them drowning beside me.

I don't know if this answered your question, but I think you already hit the nail on the head. The first step towards including those around you is to be honest with yourself which then enables your to be honest with them. I remember that after meeting with Elaine for a while, she suggested that I sit with my family and officially tell them what I was going through--put it all out in the open so that everyone was on the same page. It was terrifying and embarrassing, but it helped. It's a wall that I would have eventually climbed at one point or another, but as soon as I did, I was able to move on to the next hurdle in front of me.

So, the sooner you do in your road to recovery, the better.

I can't guarantee how your family will react to something like this, but it's important to remember that whatever they do, it will be out of love and concern (even if it's sometimes misguided).

So make sure that you're not only patient with yourself, but patient with them too.

You can overcome your disorder, I believe in you.

You can do this!







*To submit a question, you can either use the submission app on the sidebar of the blog or email me at: tomyfullestblog@gmail.com*

Interview with Up and Up

Two weeks ago, I had the amazing opportunity to be interviewed by Sarah, from Up and Up Magazine! We talked about my experiences fighting eating disorders, coming to terms with loving my body and how spirituality can play a role in eating disorder recovery.

This interview has been a big step forward for me in my journey to help others overcome their own body image issues and disorders. When I was dealing with my disorders in high school, I was terrified of anyone finding out that I had gone through not only one, but three eating disorders.

I was terrified of weakness and being seen as someone to pity.

It was also during that time that I first began writing this blog as a way for me to cope with what I was going through. Originally, I wanted to publish it my senior year, but my mom and I decided that it would be for the better if I waited until I was in a safer environment to open myself up to the world--somewhere away from the things and people who harmed me in my past.

Thank you to all of you who have followed me throughout my journey and helped me get to this point;
I appreciate your support immensely!


Make sure to check out Up and Up and the interview below!

If you haven't used the t-shirt coupon code yet, here it is again: 

Dear Nicole Arbour,

I'm sure most of you have either heard of or seen the video that YouTube "comedian", Nicole Arbour, posted this week.

If you haven't, here it is (*trigger warning*):

When she was called out and temporarily banned on YouTube for this video, she responded on Twitter by saying:

“Wow, I'm the first comedian in the history of @YouTube to be #censored There are graphic videos about murder and torture, but satire is."

Yeah.
Wow.

I don't know about anyone else, but I was only able to get through the first three minutes of this video before turning it off.

Before I get any further into this post, I want to establish that this video is not satire. If you're making someone or an aspect of someone that they can't necessarily change the brunt of a joke, it isn't humor. If you're laughing at someone else's expense--it's bullying (intentional or not).

No one has the right to criticize, laugh at, or make generalizations about another person's body.
We're all fighting battles that no one but ourselves can see.

Additionally, words and actions--even those which are intended to be "satirical", always have consequences beyond their original intentions.

When I was in high school, I played on a competition soccer team before and during my eating disorders. While I was experiencing my binge eating disorder (and while at my highest weight), I can remember struggling to get my jersey and soccer shorts on my body--since I had bought them when I was anorexic, for games and practices. Because my thighs touched (I also want to clarify that having thighs that touch is not a bad thing), my shorts which were already too small would get stuck between my legs as I walked or ran. Not only was it uncomfortable, it was embarrassing.

It was a constant reminder of my weight.

One day at practice, one of my teammates noticed my shorts getting caught between my thighs as we walked off the field for a water break.

With other teammates around her, she stopped me, pointed my shorts and said:

"Hey Alyson, is your crotch hungry? Because it's eating your shorts!"

As everyone around her laughed, I fought back tears and tried to laugh along.

Although she thought what she said was funny, I went home and cried afterwards.

Then I binged,
purged,

And hated myself even more than I already did.

I'm sure that she didn't realize how little control I had over my body size at that time or even the extent to which her words hurt me.

She didn't know how humiliated I was about the fit of my uniform on my now bigger body.
She didn't know that I would gorge myself multiple times a day until my stomach couldn't take it anymore, in order to forget how much I loathed how I looked.
She didn't know that I was on the brink of an emotional breakdown.

But, she did know that I was fat.

Although I haven't experienced fat-shaming to the extent that I know others have, I know that fat-shaming is a real thing. I've also noticed that those who tend to say it doesn't exist are usually the same people that have never been a victim of it.

They haven't gone home crying after having their weight made fun of at school.
They haven't had to worry about exercising or eating in public.
They haven't been labeled as a fat person, rather than just a person.

Fat-shaming is a prevalent aspect of our culture.
And contrary to what Nicole Arbour thinks, there is no such thing as "good" fat-shaming.

Fat-shaming doesn't "help" anyone; it usually makes things worse for those dealing with weight issues by intensifying "bad habits" and shattering already fragile self-esteem.

Or, it can cause people to lose weight through desperate and unhealthy means (eating disorders) because they've been told to hate their bodies.

It's also important to note that societal perceptions of health aren't always healthy either.

Why are we so quick to condemn those who are fat and praise those who are skinny, when being skinny can be just as harmful and deadly (if not more so--trust me, I know) as being fat?

Being overweight isn't healthy, but that doesn't mean that it isn't okay to be overweight.
You are not less of a person if you have fat on your body.
And you are not joke or something to be satirized.

We are all entitled to respect and happiness regardless of our weight; fat does not eliminate a person's humanity--even if you're included in the "35% of Americans that are OBESE".

Yes, we all are given one body; but your body doesn't have to be perfect in order for you to appreciate it.

Body positivity isn't about loving being fat or loving having fat, it's loving who you are regardless of fat, disabilities, or whatever traditional beauty standards state.

It's about not taking your body for granted by letting the opinions of those around dictate your perception of yourself and your self-worth.


There are so many more things I could say in response to this video, but I probably should end this post here before I say something I regret.


I don't know if there's a solution to end fat-shaming, but I think that having a greater degree of sensitivity and acceptance towards others is a good place to start.


And as for Nicole Arbour and those who agree with her,

Ignore them.
They're a joke.

Stress

Lately, I've been stressed out.
Okay, that was definitely an understatement.

Lately, I've been REALLY stressed out.

Between Type 1 Diabetes, work, career decisions, and every day life, stress has become almost second nature to me.

Which is more terrifying than it sounds.

In the context of my life, stress has a direct tie to disordered eating and depression.

When I was in high school, I was severely stressed out (and consequently depressed) to the point where I contemplated suicide on a daily basis.

Along with that, I ate food incessantly to forget about the world around me.
It was a coping mechanism which later became my second eating disorder and eventually resulted in my third.

I binged on food and too often, I eventually found my head shoved inside of a toilet in the hopes of helping my body forget the pain I had just put it through.

For the longest time, I was afraid that this is what the rest of my life would consist of.
Bingeing, purging, hating myself.

Wanting to die.

I couldn't imagine a life outside of my eating disorders--I couldn't see an end to my pain.

(As I'm typing this out, I realize that the words on this computer screen will never adequately explain or express how dark of a time that was for me.  I guess we never fully comprehend anyone's sadness like we do our own. Words can only describe the big picture of life-- they're shallow. Life is too deep and our experiences are too intricate to be defined by letters on a page.

But, hey. We can still try.)

Throughout all of the recent stress, I've found myself reverting back to small binges and urges to run to the bathroom and throw up... even on an empty stomach.

When I've looked in the mirror recently, I've started to see the darkness of four years ago watching and waiting from behind my eyes for the perfect moment to come forward again.

I think that's the terrifying thing about allowing yourself to step into the world of eating disorders, even if it's just for a moment, it's nearly impossible to leave.

I don't mean for this to sound disheartening or dismal. You can be cured from an eating disorder, I've done it--but it wasn't easy. When I get stressed out, I don't binge like I used to and I don't allow myself to go any further than kneeling next to a toilet--but the fear of having an instant of weakness and losing ground I've painfully gained is tortuous.

I once read that we fear most the things which we've already experienced.
And I know that to be true.

I've been through Hell, and I don't want to go back.

In all honesty, I have no idea where I'm going with this blog post or why I decided to take such a intense spin on my experiences.

I guess I'm worried about more than just myself.
I know what it's like to walk a path that you never wanted or intended to take.
And I don't recommend it to anyone.

If I could talk to myself in high school, I would try my hardest to stop her from starting her first "diet".
I would try to convince her to find help sooner.
I would try to tell her that she is beautiful at any weight.
I would try to persuade her that her stress would just be for a moment.
I would try to make her understand that not eating, eating too much or throwing up what you eat doesn't solve anything; it makes everything worse.

It makes every harder.

It makes everything scary.

Maybe this post is my open letter to any woman or girl who is contemplating taking on an eating disorder or already wading through one.

To all of you that this applies to:
Stop while you're ahead.

If you feel like you're in control of your disorder, you're not.
If you think bingeing while you eat, restricting what you eat, and throwing up what you eat aren't eating disorders, they are.
If you believe that your habits won't have any lasting effects, they will.

However:

If you feel like you're alone, you're not.
If you think you're a failure, you're not.
And if you believe that you can escape, you will.

Whenever I find myself inching back into my old habits and mentalities, I have to remind myself that I am better than this--stronger than this.

I am not weak because I have a weakness, I am strong because I am constantly fighting my weakness.

Additionally, having an eating disorder doesn't mean that you're weak, but eating disorders do require strength in order to be overcome.

So please, be strong sooner rather than later.
Be strong now, so you don't have to be strong later when you can barely find the strength to lift your head out of a toilet bowl.

It can be done, but it's much harder that way.

And much more stressful.