Five Lessons from Five Years in Eating Disorder Recovery

December third is a big day for me. It marks my five-year anniversary of being in recovery from ED. What that means is that five years ago to the day, December 3, 2012, at five in the morning I texted my mom, “I need help.” A couple of hours later I had the seizure that brought me to my rock bottom. I’d thought I could feel my body breaking down, and I was right. I had known something bad was going to happen, and it did. Like I had a crystal ball, I’d predicted it and I was lucky I’d asked for help and wasn’t alone. Ever since that day I have committed to recovery because maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky if there was a next time. Here are five lessons I have learned along the way.

1). Recovery doesn’t mean life is going to get easier it just means that you now handle it differently and you have more reasons to believe it is worth it. Oh and you actually enjoy it! I went from a life of being sick filled with only work and obsessing about food and weight (working out/ binging and purging/starving) to having a family of my own–a husband and two daughters–friends, and a closer relationship with my family. These connections that I avoided while sick, out of fear of being discovered combined with my innate feeling that I didn’t belong, now make me feel whole. Now, that little voice of anorexia is so easily knocked out by anything positive in my life—my husband’s lips against mine, by making a difference, by my ability to think clearly, by my two baby girls. Too many things are more important than ED. ED was my world before recovery-the only all-important thing in my life. Now, on a scale of importance ED is like a distant cousin five times removed—you get the point—not even a thought.

2). Time really does make it better. Recovery seems to be a waiting game with time being key—for someone with no patience like me that proved to be hard at times. I remember hearing this and thinking no way I’ll always struggle, but it really has dissipated more and more with each passing year.

A large part of this reason is because I am constantly learning new things and evolving as a human being. With ED you are so set in your eating rituals and routines that everything stays the same—you as a person can’t change. When you aren’t focused so much on ED you can live and experience which helps hush the ED voice. Through these experiences I realized how amazing my body could be and that made me reevaluate my recovery up till that point making it even stronger. My pregnancies and breast-feeding are an example of this. My babies needed nutrients for them to thrive in and out of utero, which made me look at what I was eating and strive for more variety—thus making my recovery even stronger.

Basically ED will go from center stage to a backup singer to a small part of the technical crew and then to the back row in the audience. This combination of time and non-ED experiences makes me believe one day ED will be completely eliminated—I can tell I am getting there.

3). There is a gray area and it’s a much better place than black and white. I have a personality where I am either all or nothing. I was the girl that had to get straight A’s in school, nothing in-between, or I’d be an automatic failure in my mind. I was the girl that had to be the first one at work and the last one to leave and never took a vacation. I was the girl either binging (then purging) on every food possible or starving myself. I had an all or nothing mentality and if I was going to do something–it had to be the best or to the extreme.

Since finding recovery I have found this gray area called moderation and it’s actually pretty great. I find myself sometimes just doing things because I enjoy them (can you believe it?) not to be the best or with a purpose. I now don’t have to earn my leisure. I can watch a movie because I feel like it and deserve to relax not as a reward system. I don’t have rules that I need to follow, for instance, I don’t feel guilty if I don’t workout every day. I also don’t have fear foods, and allow myself to have anything I am in the mood for but not in excess. Moderation is a good and healthy place to be.

4). Everyone isn’t going to like you, but that’s okay. Trying to get everyone to like you is an arduous task—and you will never succeed because newsflash: not everyone is going to! You can also lose yourself trying to please those around you. For a still recovering people pleaser/perfectionist this was a tough pill to swallow. But what I have come to realize is that “haters gonna hate” and it’s not a reflection on you. Bottom line: People have their own issues that make them hate people for different reasons whether they are big green eyed monsters, need attention, or simply put they can—there are so many reasons why people hate, the list can go on and on. It’s not even worth thinking about!

Be kind to everyone and if people don’t accept you still then it is their loss. I struggle with this because I am very sensitive by nature. There are people in this world who are energy vampires and I have learned through recovery that you are most definitely better off without them sucking your blood like the leaches they are anyway.

5). It’s okay to not be okay. In fact, it’s more than okay to say, “I am not okay today. I am not perfect and there is no point pretending to be. The smile on my face is as fake as Kylie Jenner’s admittedly-injection-filled-pout.” Sadness is not a weakness, admitting you are feeling down and trying to make it better is actually brave. Hiding it is actually the cowardly and easy thing to do. If you hold in all your sadness and emotion that’s when we turn to destructive ways of coping and numbing like ED. It’s okay too, to not have an exact reason for why you are feeling off. With mental illness you don’t need a reason.

I find on down days I talk to those closest to me instead of pushing them away. I tell them I am feeling off. Sometimes saying these feelings out loud is a way to admit to yourself what is going on and is also a reminder that you are not alone and people care about you. I then give myself time to write or sweat instead of avoiding those feelings and holding onto them. Bottom line: no one is perfect and life gets better once you embrace that.

So here I am, five years later typing away while my three-month-old daughter is smiling, sleeping soundly in her sleep-sack-burrito contraption in her bassinet. My almost two year old is in view through her monitor, little tushie up in the air, a sea of Wubbanub’s surrounding her. My husband is to my other side watching Stranger Things on his ipad and I am writing while simultaneously breathing in a sigh of relief. With ED, I was so alone, so sad, so defeated, deeply hurting– now I have so much love in my life I feel relief. I am so happy where I am right now—they are my strength and I am a big part of their strength. This life is where I always want to remain and I can only have it in recovery. Five years recovery strong, here is to never looking back…

 

This Is Two Kids Under Two

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“Mommy peas upy” says my twenty-month-old, Vivienne, stretching what is left of her Michelin-arms up high–she has four rolls remaining which for her age is quite impressive (thank goodness! I pray for those rolls each night like Judy Blume character, Magaret Simon, prays to increase her bust size!). The problem: my two-month-old is peacefully sleeping on my chest, fastened tightly into her Bjorn. I try to avoid picking Vivienne up, taking her hand and walking with her, but she quickly retorts. “Peas! Upy upy” and I find myself lifting her up–both girls on me-sweat dripping from my forehead.

I check to make sure the littlest of my brood is okay. Little limber hand of infant, I feel for it. Not squished. Phew. Little sweet legs of infant, not squished either. I am good.

I know one day I will be destined to be a hunchback. Quasimodo you will meet your match—but hell it will be worth it. I hope. I have found myself in this situation more than not since my littlest was born.

If this is you, welcome to the club. And here are five ways you know you have two babies under two:

1). A Carrier is a must:

My girls are eighteen months apart and yes I actually am one of those masochists that tried for the second one. In fact, it took me six months to get pregnant—meaning I got the baby bug even earlier. Crazy? Perhaps. But I love babies and missed the sweet infant smell, skin-to-skin, need I go on…

My twenty-month-old is in a lot of classes and in order for us to resume our schedule and not throw her off even more I bring my littlest to her classes attached to my chest. This would be a no no for baby number one especially without proper vaccinations. Now, this is what I call survival.

I have been in the Bjorn chasing my now twenty-month-old through jungle gyms. I am following her up to the top and watching every maneuver to make sure the baby on my chest is okay. I slither through, slowly down slides shoes bracing my landing, and crawl through tunnels. I have actually become a ninja master of this craft. Call it insanity. Hell I do too.

If this is you, this is a common skill for having two kids under two.

2). Your older child has mastered the death stare:

Jealousy doesn’t look good on anyone, even an adorable eighteen-month-old. I find that my daughter, who is so sweet natured and loves sharing with other kids, has not been as welcoming to her baby sister as I’d expect. She gives the baby death stares that I wish I could plagiarize and use on my worst enemies.

Every time I change the baby, feed the baby, burp the baby, (see a trend…) she wants to be picked up too. Now, if I were an octopus this could work. Sadly, I am not.

On days where the baby is up more and I have to give her more attention my twenty-month-old wakes up crying in the middle of the night, probably because she had a nightmare that this damn baby keeps following her everywhere. Then she wakes up and– Not. That. Baby. Again. Death stare.

If this is your eldest, this is unfortunately common for two kids under two.

3). Someone is usually up, needs a diaper change or SOMETHING, or is crying:

One wants this, the other needs something else. Both need you. Both can’t be trusted alone. Crying. Chaos. Ah.

That about sums it up for two kids under two.

4). You have totally let yourself go, because gosh who has time to care:

Gosh not me. I have managed the eyebrow wax, but besides that, self-care would be taking a shower and brushing my teeth—the musts! To be honest, I am not one to be bothered with makeup, never was, but finding “me time” is hard, especially because I am working from home too—which eats up any spare moment. Who has time for naps these days? Not I. I am rocking the permanent puffiness under the eye look. This is actually the first article I have written and it’s an ode to having no time at this juncture for anything or anyone but my kids.

If this is you, this is unfortunately common for two kids under two.

5). So much love, laughter and cuteness. Double the babies, double the love.

I still love it. I love motherhood. My girls are hands down the best things that ever happened to me. Whether it is my infant making t-rex noises or my eldest running in circles screaming “circle, circle, circle,” I really enjoy these little people I get to help mold. When my eldest gives me a kiss or my littlest lays peacefully on my chest making me feel their love, it just makes all in the world seem right. I am where I want to be: motherhood.

If this is you, this is why two kids under two is completely worth it.

So give me spit up, poop blowouts, heavy lifting, and no me time—twice the baby love makes two kids under two a pretty special club to be apart of.