well that WAS helpful

 (photo credit to Living Life Fully)

I hear people all the time utter the phrase, "well that was UNhelpful"

and it wasn't until I was taking a walk tonight (I really need to quit walking late at night - though I do better maintain my train of thought) that I started to wonder what was helpful... I urge those reading to add to this list in the comments section as I am genuinely curious.

helpful is the kind front desk lady at my therapist's office who always has a smile, remembers me, and speaks sweetly when I call timid about scheduling an appointment.

helpful is when people acknowledge you are there, not part of the scenery, and as a result respect that you have feelings, views, and thoughts

helpful is when someone reminds you that a dress is just a dress and that needing a size smaller (or larger) isn't a necessarily a crisis, but rather needing a size smaller (or larger)

helpful are  the people who know when to push and when to quit

helpful is mourning the past while also toasting to the potential the future holds

helpful can be a smile, an email, or a phone call (particularly from my great aunt)

helpful is the person that's there for you when you're not 100% there for yourself

helpful is the understanding that sometimes pushing away means you want to be pulled closer... maybe even hugged

helpful is when you feel able to cry in front of someone

helpful is when you receive little reminders that you are of worth

helpful is compassionate at time

helpful is feeling validated

helpful is loving me when i least deserve it, because you know that's when i really need it the most

helpful is having meals in the fridge prepared

helpful is someone smiling when you're feeling down

helpful is knowing when to take a break - and knowing it's okay TO take a break

what is helpful to you?

[oh and hula hooping to Adele is ALWAYS helpful ;)  ]

the "a" word -- anger -- {{ self discovery word by word }}

 (image credit: Ashley from NTS)

I know.. I know... I reference Ashley's blog.... Nourishing the Soul... a lot. today is no exception. She started the Self-Discovery Word by Word series where each month a word is chosen to write about... (this month it's hosted by Big Girl Bombshell) I've never participated, telling myself various reasons why not to... however, this month a word popped up that left me feeling unsettled... what was this month's word?

anger.


This word came up this last week during my weekly Laura (which was last Wednesday) and also appeared quite a few times when I was in IOP.

It's a word that scares me. Something about the shape those five letters can take when personified.

When I was a kid, I saw anger. true anger.. and frequently. I'm not saying I never saw love, but I am saying that I saw, heard, and dreamt about what I still believe was an extremely raw form of haunting anger.

Some of those things still scare me and thus I say that anger does.

I was in IOP this time last year (I cannot wait until that phrase will no longer be able to escape my lips... or pass through my fingers via the keys they touch) and Cathy (an amazing art therapist) led us outside with a scale to bash. There were only three of us at this point and outside we went into the back parking lot, laughing along the way at one of the girls' habit of coughing every time she sees a smoker - that walk being no exception as we passed a group taking long drags in the cool summer breeze.


We got out there and the other two started taking the turns with the hammer Cathy brought... I wound up only being able to watch from a distance - standing on the curb near the grass in my dress... the whole situation scaring me and making me feel extremely unsettled. Just watching the others take hammers to these scales I almost started crying, resorting to hugging myself to prevent it... the anger was just so visible. Cathy wouldn't let us go back inside until I had hit the scale with a hammer, but I could barely muster tapping the already broken scale - but I needed us to go back inside the building. Inside where people were more composed. Where things felt more in control. Cathy didn't press the issue further after my love tap to the scale so inside we went again, thankfully

It wasn't the way they were acting outside that had scared me, it was the realization that no one that spirals out of control in rage, starts their rage out of control. It's a seamless transition... one I've witnessed too many times. Recently I felt incredibly hurt by some things... intense emotions... I became so fearful I would act out in anger or mixed emotions and hurt people (emotionally) that I apologized and then isolated myself from them... The whole thing terrifying and upsetting me in multiple ways... fearful that I was dangerously close to trespassing into the land of rage.

Through the years I've held in emotions, even in places I feel secure such as Laura's office, but no emotion have I held in to the degree that I have anger - to the point of mellowing it out so that I honestly don't know if I am experiencing it or anything... only a brief thought that maybe I should be angry.

I've cried and shown up in her office in a daze... but I've never let myself be angry. Truly angry. I've always said there was no point in it. The closest I've come is being pissed off (which as those that know me in real life... takes a lot -- or for me to feel extremely hurt/injured by people on an emotional level as I mentioned earlier)... I'm terrified of hurting others with that anger... I hate hurting people in general, which is another reason why I can and often do abruptly withdraw or shut off after experiencing high intense emotions.

I've held the fear (odd side fact: they say that fear and anger are inversely related) of getting too angry dear for quite some time. Curled up with it. I think the wall I've built with it is finally starting to crumble though.

Reading several case studies has taught me that this is quite a common reality for those with eating disorders, this "thwarted anger" -- with cutting, purging, starving, and other behaviors being ways of getting rid of that anger.

I think becoming more secure with yourself grants you some greater ability to validate your own emotions. To be able to sit with them, because they are yours... and feelings aren't right or wrong, they just are (or so someone I know once told me) - telling yourself that you're not angry, that you're not sad, that you're not anything is invalidating yourself... and you're worth more than that.


what do you do to sit with your emotions in a healthy way? or what can you choose to do?

 day 3: Favorite television show? My So-Called Life... closely followed by Little House on the Prairie (yes, Melissa Gilbert dressed in Calico running down a field Little House on the Prairie). Oh recent you say? Well, I don't have cable.. and have yet to really turn on my television (except for the second or third day in my apartment to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's) so all the tv shows I watch, I watch via Netflix... and I'm going to say In Treatment or Project Runway when it's in season...

The Obesity/Emaciation Connection

I believe that behind both the person who weighs 400 pounds and the one who weighs 85 there is a lot of baggage, and it has nothing to do with their bodies.  - Kirstie Alley

I thought I posted this last night, but alas I find myself typing it again.

Not too terribly long ago I saw the first episode of Oprah's Addicted to Food and while I'm waiting to see a few more episodes before I form an opinion it did leave me thinking.... which is always a good thing. Even more recently I was over at Nourishing The Soul and was reading Ashley's post questioning do fat memories ever fade. Together the two of those things left me wondering a multitude of things... about anecdotes involving friends on the internet, about whether or not having cameras around would be good for treatment (though undoubtedly I imagine having them there outweighs not being in treatment at all), which in turn made me think of prohibitive treatment costs in the United States, and then I also thought of similarities.

What kind of similarities?

The similarities between those that are obese and those that are emaciated.


Aside from the fact that both have been on the rise... both impact millions of people (which right there makes me wonder if there IS a connection)...

If you examine the health effects of both you'll find that they share a lot of the same possible ones (obviously, not everyone that's emaciated or obese will have these, but these are the common ones). Infertility, negative change in blood pressure (extremely low in the emaciated, extremely high in the obese), heart problems, stroke, skin problems, bone problems (recent studies have concluded that obesity is bad for the bones - and osteoporosis for the emaciated), diabetes (type II for the obese, type I for the emaciated), and digestive issues.

The similarities do not end there. Treatment plans for both involve creating a healthy lifestyle and adjusting one's diet. As well as trying to pinpoint a cause for turning food into a weapon used against oneself.

Clothes shopping can be difficult for either party, not having any cute options, or having to find clothing in the children's department.

Having a stigma attached when going out in public is also present in both -- be it laziness that is often associated with the overweight... enough to make anyone self conscious of eating in public or going to a gym; or having people think you have an eating disorder or are "sick" if you're emaciated -- also complicating eating in public and going to the gym.

With all of these similarities why is the plan of attack so different for both?
While there is currently progress being made on banning emaciated models, that's about the extent of action being taken against those that are emaciated.

I worded it that way for a reason... because actions are currently being taken against the obese. If you haven't seen the childhood obesity ads from Georgia:

(photo credit to Huffington Post)

It's clear that there is a war being waged on the obese. Not only with advertisements, but also with taxes (taxation for products including fructose have been proposed as a means of countering obesity) ... extra costs for riding on airplanes... television shows such as The Biggest Loser... and whole campaigns targeted directly at them such as the one above. None of them, however, offering up proposals that deal with nutrition or developing healthy relationships with food.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to be one of the children featured in that ad. A walking example of something Georgia is telling their children they should not be. They're becoming a target for a nearly encouraged barrage of disdain since obesity intolerance is fairly socially acceptable.

Yes, I agree that obesity is not healthy, but I'm pretty sure we all knew that anyway.. before we decided that it was okay to label pictures of kids with a "warning"

I honestly wonder what would happen if we handled this with compassion or education instead of aggression and seemingly hate filled campaigns. I imagine quite a few obese individuals have eating disorders... In various forms such as bulimia, binge eating disorder, compulsive over eating, and ED-NOS (I think we forget anorexia and bulimia are not the only disorders out there and that anorectics don't become emaciated overnight). We should be tackling the question WHY?? instead of tackling the person.. or the food... Neither are the problem. While we're at it, we could be tackling the eating disorder crisis as well as the "obesity crisis" (as they may very well be one in the same) in this very same COMPASSIONATE way.

Just my thoughts... what are yours?

-------------------------


DAY 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest
I don't have a picture, but definitely dear Dani.

I'm okay. I'm fine. I feel fat.

 (photo credit to nobody-but-me)

Okay, so I had absolutely NO idea what to write about today (for tomorrow)... and I decided I would go for a run. It started sprinkling half-way through my first iPod song... I kept running, when I got about to the halfway point it started pouring,  right when Ray LaMontagne's "Trouble" started making its way to my ears my shoulder popped (I've had two shoulder surgeries and so running is a touch and go sport), and by the end of that song it had popped again resulting in walking. It was at this point when it was still pouring that a police officer driving by asked me if I needed a ride and I told him that magical phrase, "I'm okay"

Let's think about this. It's pouring rain, it's thundering, I'm about a fifteen minute walk from my home and my shoulder keeps popping every time I try to run. Yet, I'm proclaiming that I am okay to a police officer who offered me a ride.

This phrase also commonly shows up at the end of my therapy sessions (actually, if I'm being honest, I'd say nearly every session) - "I'm always okay. seriously."

So what did I really mean when I said that to the police officer? I was telling him that I didn't actually have a problem (aka I'm not weak), that I didn't need help (aka I can help myself), and that I did not want to impose on him or put him out.

In saying the phrase a lie is forming - not only between yourself and who you say it to... but also to yourself. You're burying the problem at hand.. ignoring it... hoping it will solve itself - refusing to deal with the issue.  (I also think the phrase can mean that we wish for help to seek us - that we want to know who really cares based on who will challenge that statement)

This burial will present problems later on (me having to walk 15 minutes in the pouring rain) as it will undoubtedly come to a head... Worse yet? These constant lies impact relationships. If you're "always okay" then people assume that you can get through things even when you do muster the courage to approach them with a problem.... this can be devastating... here you need people and are willing to admit it and are being dismissed...

or they know you're not okay and don't know what to do since you won't discuss it. Do you see how this could be frustrating? You're doing X,Y, and Z and yet you're saying everything is okay... repeatedly.

=====

I feel like I can't complete this topic without addressing "I feel fat" --- "I feel fat" is really suppressed emotions and feelings in the same way that "I'm okay/fine" is suppressed problems. You're not "feeling fat" - you're feeling things that fat represents to you. You're feeling those uncomfortable things. Whether it be frustrated, sad, angry, disjointed, confused, forlorn, exhausted, whatever... you're feeling. and that can feel, unsettling. Especially if you don't have words for those feelings - just that you are... and at that moment fat seems like a tangible stand in.

Next time you say that you're okay, you're fine, or that you feel fat -- take a moment to try to think what you really mean by that -- try to realize what all is going on inside of you and identify those emotions/feelings/etc - I think it can also probably help on the "be here now" front as you're trying to figure out what is happening within you in that moment


Try to get to know yourself, try to get to know those feelings, they are yours' after all.



===========



which brings me to something I'm going to start doing on here... to get to know myself a bit better. I know that might sound odd, but I think self discovery can be a grand thing. Arielle actually inspired this via Facebook --- also, I think this could be a good opportunity for anyone that reads to get to know me so I can break away from this mysterious Wednesday poster persona...


Warning: this may bore you, so I'll always put it at the end of my posts ;)


DAY 01: A PICTURE OF YOURSELF WITH 10 FACTS

10 Facts about Me:

1) I love pretty food... a lot --- make it pretty and I'll eat at least some of it (see the amazing chocolate easter bunny picture)

2) Really big turtles scare me... or rather creep me out - even pictures of them. When I went to Disney World in college, we went to Epcot's Coral Reef restaurant and sat next to an aquarium wall.. unfortunately there was a massive turtle right next to me the whole time. No bueno...

3) I was born in Upper Heyford, England (aka Oxfordshire) and have since lived in Mississippi, Washington state, Kansas, Missouri, Indiana, Arkansas, Texas (2 locations back to back), Illinois, and am now back in Missouri.

4) In the fall, I try to eat something pumpkin every single day.

5) I want to work in a group home some day

6) I have a weird habit of dropping coins on the ground -- I remember how much it would excite me as a kid to find money

7) I only listen to CDs, talk radio, or country radio in my car.... why? I like consistency and I can guarantee the ability to listen to any of those three in any state.

8) I know how to make balloon animals

9)  I keep peppermints in my car for when I see homeless people... I try to give them $1 and a peppermint candy --- when I worked in downtown Indianapolis I remember sharing pizza with my father and a homeless man and how the homeless man told me he hated always having bad breath - I also fully believe in having open hands

10) I honestly think I'm in a better place than I have been in a very long time (and no I don't just mean, because I'm in my amazing bed eating a banana)

Sun day [introduction]

Hello you divine creatures. I'm Rachel...
What do you need to know? I'm in my early 20s, I'm a musician or something. [that is not me. that is betty supple. go on, hit play!] Should I say "I've had an eating disorder since" or "I've been recovering for" ? A long time; a long time. I'm grateful for how much I've learned since I started trying to pull my head out of the sand. And I'm grateful to the founder and all of the members of this blog, and to We Bite Back, for being a part of that for me for the last 3 years.

I'm pretty stoked about beginning this blog, but I'll tell you straight off: I'm nervous, because I know I have trouble sometimes keeping my words in the realm of the concise and understandable, rather than turning out half-baked novellas and treatises, spinning around and around myself so much trying to figure out what it is I so urgently am trying to say that I disappear up my own navel. It's not terribly pretty.

But what happens is, it is urgent.
When I'm writing about something like recovery from eating disorders, or sinister forces in society, or oppressive ways of viewing yourself or the world, well, it feels urgent. It feels like life and death that it be figured out and communicated, and I don't understand why the whole lot of us humans aren't trying to figure out and communicate, too, so that we can save ourselves.
I think I'm not alone in this. Needing to figure it all out, needing to understand. Urgently.
And you know, speaking as someone whose personal understanding of the experience of loathing yourself runs particularly deep... I think I like this about myself.
I like that I take seriously the task of understanding and communicating, I like that as I go about my life, I'm not satisfied to let a lot of things slide without trying to understand them. (That said, protip: if you want to get me to check out of a conversation just make it clear you're going to start talking about mathematics and my brain will dive for cover for my own protection and I won't register a single thing you say after that point. "The square root of - " zap. Tuned out. Anyway...)

So if it's so urgent to write, to "figure out and communicate", if that is really what we need to do so that we can save ourselves, what more is there?
Well, there's one thing.
It's this:
Chill out.
Because words on a page are not going to save us. Me, you, anyone. What save us are actions.

Lately, I am into incorporating the wisdom of mindfulness; presentness; "being here now" more and more into my life and it seems to bear on this. I do like that I need to figure things out, and I don't think I would trade the millions of words I've poured out trying to understand living in this world for anything. But in the end, all that all those words can do is orient me to a very simple truth: in every moment, I have to be present, so that I can choose to do the right thing. In the end, if the urgent need to understand everything is presenting itself as an obstacle to the simplicity of a moment, then it is only an obstacle. Whereas if I chill out, and exist in a present moment, I can actually access wisdom I've achieved and apply it to that present moment. The urgency doesn't serve if it's interfering.

And so my take-home message to start off the week is just that. More urgent than anything is your participation in the moment you're in.

And once you're in that moment, you're faced with two immensely beautiful things: choice and possibility.
If I were to issue a challenge, it would be that. Throughout the week, try to launch yourself into the present, so that you can ask yourself " does what I'm doing right now align with my ultimate goals, my ultimate sense of the way I am going to live?"
it's simple.
Chill out. It's not the time to figure it all out. To figure out the goals, or morality. In the present moment, it's simple. Maybe I've had a stressful or complicated week, but today, the need to appreciate and employ the perspective of making things very simple seems, well, terribly urgent.

I appreciate my furious mind, and my words on the page. And I think that often, words on a page can fertilise the seeds of actions. And sometimes it's not the time for it to be furious. Sometimes, fury gets in the way of action. Both things are true.

(and ironically, i think one can learn a lot from asking that question and being present in moments.)

Until next week: chill out! We don't need to understand it all right now. :) In any given moment, we just need to act. I dare us.

Peace and CouRage,

Rache

p.s. enjoy this song by Betty Supple. She's from Hamilton! :) [ish.]

You Never Asked

You never asked...
...for a hug
...for me to call
...to spend time together
...for me to drive instead of you


...So how do you expect to get it?


A lot has been going on with me for the past week. I've exhausted myself from multiple committments, plus my boyfriend is home from graduate school for Spring Break. Add in to the mix some relationship squabbles, identity crises, and a best friend ending up in the ER for 10+ hours, and you have a very tired Ashley in need of rest.

Most likely related to what's been going on, the other day I had a migraine, and felt like I was going to get sick. So, I spent most of the day in bed and skipped my class. My boyfriend came upstairs to check on me around 5:30 PM (yes, I was still in bed!) and asked if I needed anything. It hit me: I was CRAVING an iced mocha! I sheepishly asked him if he would drive to a coffee shop and grab one for me.


He paused (ahhh!!, I think) and said, "Yep."

With wide eyes, I said, "Really? You'll get me one?"

"Yes, I will."

 "I excepted you to say no for some reason..."

"You've never asked before."






The iced mocha was delicious, by the way.

the body police

It's Wednesday already... I must agree with the lovely Kate from Tuesday who pondered where does the week go... Where did the day go for that matter?

Anyways... I was going to write about this song that's been stuck in my head... Pennies From Heaven (if you've never heard it.. you simply must)... but I've changed my mind

This concept struck me whilst at work watching women police their own bodies. That's what they appeared to be doing. Policing their bodies.

It's interesting. I did a radio interview  (you can listen to the archive of it here by clicking on March 7th) on Monday night with a good friend of mine, Erica. I discussed the advertising world (at the very end of the interview) and I've been developing my thoughts on the whole situation.

We're surrounded by the body police. We hear from them on the television. We see their words in magazines. Our friends morph into them occasionally. Strangers can become the body police. However, WE can also be our own body police.

The thing to remember here is that while it's easy to focus on the media, the one instance of the body police that we can truly change is the last one I mentioned. Ourselves.

You may be thinking to yourself that you don't police your own body. I assure it occurs far more often than what we'd think. I'm currently in college and have a job working in a fitting room. I hear women all the time come in and if some article of clothing does not fit them they initially turn to blaming themselves. Now let's look at that sentence structure really quickly. the verb "does" (in this case the negated verb) belongs to the noun "clothing" NOT "themselves". Meaning that it's the clothing that is doing it (or not doing it) NOT the person.

Clothing is cut different ways. Clothing sizes vary from brand to brand. Every woman has a unique shape. Look beyond the clothing. Usually when I have a woman start to berate herself, I offer (or try to) some insight into why that article is not working - I ALSO offer insight into what might work better that still fits their general style. I go out into the store, I grab some items, come back... they try them on - and usually they wind up feeling better. More assured.

However, it's still saddening how quick we are to think that there's a problem with our bodies. I think the media tells us to police ourselves, but if we quit doing it. Imagine what could happen. As Eve Ensler once said, "quit fixing your body. Start fixing the world"

so much energy exerted enveloping the role of the body police. we should really be policing how we communicate with ourselves.

how is your self communication today?

Letting Yourself Be Helped

• You're upset, so you hold it in rather than talking about it.
• You've returned from the store with a bunch of groceries and lug them all in by yourself. 
• You feel as if though you do everything, that you have to do everything, because others won't do whatever it is correctly. 
• You frequently take control of group projects at work or school.
•  You push yourself to beyond exhausted to get everything that you need to get done.
• When someone asks you what is wrong, you reply with a vague answer like "nothing," or "I'm fine."
• You often view people who challenge your eating disorder as enemies rather than allies (i.e., you get upset or bothered by their comments or concerns)
• You don't actively reach for help or support from other people that care about you or a therapist (e.g., calling someone when upset or when struggling with eating disorder) 

How many of these can you relate to? And how many more ways can you think of that you push away the help of others? Many of us withdrew into the solitude and secrecy of the eating disorder when we first became ill. Isolating yourself allows you to continue the eating disorder--by not eating around us and become independent as possible from the "outside" or normal day lives of those who eat regularly, you seal yourself off from the possibility of becoming better.

So when you're starting to recover, there's often a painful period of reintegration into the world of people and food. All the sudden you are learning to eat again and trying to cope with the emotions and energy that recovery unearths. This is where you hit the uncomfortable middle ground that Kat so eloquently spoke about--the beginning of recovery can sometimes feel WORSE than the eating disorder did. Your first instinct is probably to go straight back to the eating disorder, to go straight back to that "independence" and secrecy that allowed you to continue being sick. 

But stop. You don't have to do this. Recovery involves the process of learning new skills and new ways of dealing with your emotions and interacting with the people around you. When you first start consciously reaching out to others for help, it may be hard, it may hurt, it may be surprising or nerve-wracking and it may feel like you'll be torn apart by guilt. We often suffer from fears that we are inadequate, unworthy of being helped, or a waste of time, in much less obvious terms. Our world-view becomes distorted and it becomes normal to think that just like doing the whole eating disorder thing alone, we have to do the whole recovery thing alone. It's not true.

A little over the month ago, I walked into the office of my previous therapist. I hadn't seen her in about a year and a half, and had no contact with her over that time. I had first been seeing her post-hospital stay, but left after a few months when I started floundering again [and given I was returning to the same home environment from which I had first gotten sick, it wasn't surprising. That, however, is a post for another day]. I deliberated for days on end whether or not I could call her, what she would think about me for calling. I was waiting in the reception area for her to come out, since she had said her old office had moved.

When she came out, she saw me and had a huge smile on her face. "C'mon in, she said." I had prepped myself in the car on the way over the her office. I promised myself that no matter what happened, I would let her in, be honest with her, and genuinely accept any help she had to offer. I was desperate to change. By the time I left, she had told me, "I had no idea what to expect when you walked in. I was driving over here earlier and I really didn't know how you would be...what had changed...and I was just so relieved once we started talking." Granted I've changed a lot since I'd last seen her, I think it was my attitude of wanting help that struck her the most as changed. I hadn't asked for help so directly before; I had mostly sat in her office and felt sorry for myself (all along having this great resource of a person to draw from). 

As I've gone through the recovery process, I've gradually learned how to let people in. I opened the door into my mind and feelings just a peep at first, and often slammed it shut at the first sign of fear or rejection. But bit by bit I learned how to inch it open further, sometimes far enough to let a whole person in rather than speaking to them through the door crack. 

Through doing so, it's become easier to ask for help. I let my boyfriend carry thing for me. It doesn't mean I'm weak; it means I am strong enough to ask for help. I tell someone close to me when I am sad or upset so that they can help me through the emotion. It doesn't mean I am an emotional wreck; it means I am learning to be open enough to share what is really going on inside of me. When it's time to do a group project, I use my leadership skills to delegate out tasks to other people as fairly and equally as possible. It doesn't mean I can't do the project; it means that I recognize that I could benefit from the input of others. 

When I got out of that appointment with my therapist, I texted a friend and said, "I let myself be helped." 

He quickly replied back, "I'm proud of you."

Look over that list again, and try to think about any other things you do that might benefit from recieving other people's help. You don't have to go at this whole recovery thing alone, you know. We bloggers are here, we know what it's like, and you certainly have people in your own life who are probably waiting to help you. But you can't know that until you let them in.

saying, "I have an eating disorder"

I know. The title itself is scary, isn't it?

I remember the first time I uttered that phrase out loud. I was in the military (for people that know me, saying I was in the military seems really weird considering my personality type, but I was - look out for a post about that in the future). I was stationed on a base very close to where I currently live. I spent most of my time in the military denying i had one. Fighting the system that I thought was trying to bring me down... it was bringing me down, but not the portion I was fighting.

I was in a very dark place in my life. I was engaging in behaviors left and right, even at work - especially at work. I took some time off to go do a photoshoot at the Ohio State Reformatory, on my way back I visited a friend of mine at Purdue and while I was avoiding the sandwich on my plate at Panera I knew what I was going to do.

I got back to Scott and I had an appointment with the Psychologist on base on Wednesday and I broke down in her office and told her in not so many words that I did have an eating disorder and that I thought I was killing myself.

I didn't even actually get those words out, not like that anyways, but that was the first time I said something to that effect. It took me eight years to say it and stress that there was a serious problem happening. Eight years. I wound up going into a treatment program the Friday of that same week.

Currently, I've been thrust into this realm of publicity. I am getting interviewed on a weekly basis for doing something that I honestly don't think is a big deal, rather, something that needed to be done. I'm holding a fashion show with a variety of women that fairly resemble a random sampling of the women you encounter daily. Women in their teens to women in their 60s. A mayor of a local town even... Women of varying sizes, shapes, and ethnicities.

A show that I feel needed to happen.

In these interviews I've been trying to be vague when asked the dreaded "why?" question. I recently got an email from a lovely lady at St. Louis Kids Magazine. She wanted to do an interview with me regarding eating disorders, insurance companies, the show, and myself. She said she was willing to edit the article once it was online (she's one of their SmartParenting bloggers). I knew it was the perfect time for me to do it. Why did I finally come out and do it though?

Nourishing the Soul recently posted a link to a scholarly article regarding the stigma of eating disorders as opposed to depression. The findings revealed in the article were not surprising to me. The stigma for eating disorders is much higher in our society. It was this stigma that I knew existed that prompted me to self-disclose. It just happened to be odd fate that the day after the article came out that NTS would post that link on Twitter, fate that left me grounded in my decision.

There is NO shame in having an eating disorder. There is especially no shame in seeking help for one either. I do think that judgment should be used with disclosure, but I also strongly feel that it should not become a dirty little secret.

By not speaking about eating disorders we're helping that stigma stick around. Feeding it. It is not until we talk about it that things can change. It's what we don't see, what we don't talk about, what we don't know for certain that scares us the most. We need to educate and communicate.

I'm going to say that coming out of the eating disorder closet scared me (and still feel slightly odd), but I wouldn't go back and alter that decision. I chose that venue, because the kindness of Nicole (the author) and what I thought would be a smaller reader base (causing the revelation to slowly leak out rather than burst). I also didn't think I would personally get a response...

The day that article came out two of the members of the treatment team from the IOP program I went to emailed me unexpectedly. Compassion and care came. Compassion and care that I wasn't anticipating. Compassion and care that were very very much appreciated and made me wonder... if we showed that sort of care to people that reveal things of that nature (not even just eating disorders), maybe more people wouldn't wait as long to disclose their problems - if I had been able to say them eight years prior - or even a couple of years before I did...

if all of this happened I truly believe the stigma would start to fade away as people would learn in the process.

Educate and Communicate.