I remember when back in August, I was told that four weeks of an Intensive Outpatient Program would be sufficient to treat my eating disorder. Here I am, several months later, and I am still attending treatment three times a week.
A lot has happened since August— from walking out of the program in mid-September, when a higher level of care was recommended, to returning in October for a Partial Hospitalization Program, 9 hours a day, 7 days a week, to stepping back down to IOP. I knew that recovery wasn’t going to be simple or linear and that eating disorders don’t disappear in a matter of days. That doesn’t change the fact that I was hoping I would be an exception.
When I came to college, the last thing I expected was to end up in treatment. My plan was to simply allow for my disorder to take over because after attempting recovery on my own, I was sick of trying. I didn’t want to let go of something that I considered to be the best coping mechanism I would ever have, something that I felt was part of my identity in one way or another.
Spending months at various levels of care certainly put a strain on my academic and social life. During PHP, it was difficult to keep up with schoolwork while attending 63 hours of therapy a week, and while before, I had been isolated because of my poor mental health, that was now additionally affected by the fact that I felt I simply didn’t have the time to meet up with people. I did, however, meet many incredible and inspiring individuals in treatment, who have influenced me in the best way and, I hope, will be friends for life.
Aside from being anxious about questions or comments when I returned to class after being gone for nearly a month, I was— and continue to be— uncomfortable in my body as I continue to try to stick to recovery. As I said, this is by no means a straight line. Every slip up causes a rush of emotions: on the one hand, I feel like a failure for using behaviors, on the other hand, I feel like I am succeeding, because these behaviors had previously become synonymous with a sense of control, success, and attainable goals.
I want to make this clear: eating disorders aren’t just about weight. They aren’t about vanity or wanting to look like the photoshopped models in magazines. Each person experiences their eating disorder differently, and while the above may have some effect, there are many, sometimes countless, underlying factors that contributed to its growing strength. Shaming people for having eating disorders, or other mental illnesses for that matter, and making them feel as though they are just seeking attention can easily push someone even further in. Almost everyone I have met said at one point or another that they didn’t feel “sick enough,” myself included. Sometimes this was a result of the invalidating comments of those around them. All of these people were indeed sick enough, and each and every one deserves to recover.
As of now, I have no idea how much longer this will last. I don’t know when I will discharge from treatment, and, unfortunately, I don’t know if something will cause me to end up there again. This journey has been a process of trying to accept failures and setbacks as natural events and learning experiences, rather than allowing them to define me.
I am not recovered. But I am doing my best to stay on the path that will eventually lead me there.
