So, in trying to figure out a bit more about my own blog, I’m going to do an entry on recovering from my eating disorder today instead of my normal food blogging. I figure I could mix things up a little (since I have plans in the future to post about my next upcoming 1/2 Marathon Race and more about my job!). So be prepared for a lot of reading, and probably no pictures. I’ll apologize now if it’s a bore! But please read it if you have the time; it would make my world. :)
Anyhow, a little story about what has been going on about my recovery. Well, I think that’s actually it. I’m done recovering, in a good way of course. I think I’ve finally accepted and gotten to the point where I’m not obsessing over the slightest things and ruining the times that I should be having fun in. There have been many times of ups and down, anxiety and stress, tears and helplessness, but this time, it’s all hope, determination and smiles.
Let me back track. My eating disorder has been about control from the start. I lost control of too many things at one point (the start of college, the loss of two grandparents in 6 months, moving away, etc.), and everything spiraled out of control from there. So in my life, when I lose control, that is when my eating disorder would rear it’s head high and make my life miserable.
I have reached out to many people and have had so much support from family, friends and bloggers alike, but none as great as the latest one I had. I have had full support from my family since the day they found out and have helped me in so many ways that I cannot count. My friends have all been there for me and have let me cry on their shoulders as they confronted me with their fears and concerns. And so many times have I had many blogger friends within a few seconds of being able to contact and ask all the questions I could ever want answered. But I think in the end, talking just wasn’t enough. It was going to be the act of absolutely getting my buttons pushed, and losing control in a different way that would make me change the way I viewed things and how I walked my way through my life.
So, remember my adventures in Miami, FL and the FL Keys? Well, that’s when the tables were turned. I was sent into a situation where I couldn’t determine every single thing that went into my mouth, when I was going to eat, how I was going to exercise, what I was going to cook, etc. My buttons were pushed, I didn’t like it, but holy moly was it the best thing for me.
I can’t tell you how much I’ve struggled with knowing so many things about eating disorders and thinking that I would be able to cure myself, by myself. I remember telling my ex so many times about things that I knew I was doing, that I knew how to change, and he would just kinda shrug his shoulders and be like, alright, then do it and get better; I’ll let you do your thing. But that wasn’t what I needed. I needed something to push me beyond my comfort zone that they were aware of, and that was all I needed to make me realize so many things that I already knew and believed, but couldn’t bring myself to actually conquer.
So, in moves Brad. I tell him before we start dating that I have an eating disorder; not something I would normally disclose to someone I don’t know that well and haven’t spent that much time with, but there was something about him. I remember that day vividly, standing outside our trailer near the airboats and trucks, baking away in the sun. I felt so comfortable with him; a comfort level that I don’t ever remember having with anyone else.
Before our vacation I talked to him several times about several things and my eating disorder. He was calm and collective, unbiased as he could be with his responses (with not knowing much about the disease, etc.) and willing to be there whenever I needed to talk or cry. It felt good to be able to talk to someone like that, when for all the years before my ex had never been very supportive of my recovery and the things that could help me get there.
Lo and behold comes our vacation. I was nervous about the whole bit, but by god I was going to have the most fun I’d probably had in a very very long time. I was no holds bar, I was going all out. And that’s when it all happened. I remember being hellishly nervous about drinking sangria that first night, but I had so much fun it didn’t matter. I remember eating for days on end out of cereal boxes, of granola bars and mixed nuts and trail mixes that I wouldn’t want to touch them again for a long time. I remember being so uncomfortable on the inside and hiding it well on the outside…but there were other boundaries that were broken to make me get to the comfort I’m at now.
I’m sure you’ve all read great posts on Meghann’s and Kelly’s blogs about Bikini Confidence. I experienced it with Meghann in FL whether she knows it or not, but I was really able to take it to full throttle when I was on this vacation. I practically lived in my bikini, day in and day out, with all the swimming and snorkeling I was doing. I have always been a fan of bikinis, buying numerous ones over the past few summers, just like women buy shoes. But I would never wear them. And if I did, pictures were NEVER taken. And now, well, many pictures were taken.
I remember specifically, going on our first snorkel tour and Brad taking a picture of me standing on the bow along the wire, just in my bikini. No towel to hide anything, I was all out. I remember smiling for the camera, thinking, “this sucker is getting deleted the second I get my hands on that camera.” I looked at the photo, secretly horrified at what I was looking at, zooming in to put down every inch of my body that I could find to attack. But then I stopped. I stopped and looked at Brad, I looked at that picture, and realized, he wasn’t looking at any of the things I was looking at. He was simply looking at me. Just at me, me and all my glory; body, personality, brain and all.
And that’s when it hit me. That’s when I wasn’t afraid anymore to walk along the beach in my bikini like I used to be and not worry about what someone might be thinking. That was when I was proud of what I had and that I had it. I think I smiled for real about myself for the first time. It felt good.
The rest of my vacation was amazing. We did so many things that my normal mindset would never have let me do. It was absolutely awesome.
So, after sitting here in Texas with my new job and way too much time to think, I’ve been able to realize this, how having Brad push my buttons and into situations that would make me uncomfortable, and I’ve noticed the changes that have occurred with the way I go about in day to day life too. I no longer hover over my measuring cups and spoons; I don’t look at all the labels for their calories; I don’t count the number of goldfish or crackers that go in my bag; I don’t second guess my decisions and enjoy the things I eat. I’m taking life to it’s fullest extent and living it up; I’ve only got one of them.
I’m proud now. I’m hopeful. I’m determined. I have a spunk/spontaneity. The real me is actually showing… And I can’t thank Brad enough for it; he’s absolutely changed my life.
Thanks for reading if you go this far. You’re a champ. Props and hugs to you!
