A recent blog entry by Aimee Liu got me to thinking about when I started the process of recovery and what prompted me into doing it. My process was very slow; I took my first go at it in summer 2004 after a long, long looooong talk with a friend who expressed his worry on behalf of himself and a few of our friends. They’d seen too much, but it’s not like I was really hiding it at that point because it was pretty obvious I was sick. Why hide the behaviors when I looked like death?
I sputtered along, sort of trying to recover but only half-heartedly. I loathed the few pounds I had gained from eating more and never really let go of restricting and purging. I didn’t allow my weight to reach a certain point and did whatever I had to so I didn’t surpass that magical number. It wasn’t until I met my husband, Patrick, in October 2005 that I began recovery in earnest. I had the choice of pursuing the relationship and shoving the eating disorder into the back seat, or the other way around. I knew Patrick was a keeper when we were talking in his apartment one night and I told him of everything I had been through in the last few years. This was early into our relationship, and despite this, he didn’t even flinch. He accepted me for me. No one else besides my family had really done that before, so that was the turning point for me.
Liu mentions in her post that two things happen simultaneously that mark the turning point into recovery: acute distress and hope. I would argue that I wasn’t in acute distress - I never hit the “rock bottom” that prompts addicts into seeking rehab when they have everything to lose if they don’t go - but hope definitely had its part. I wanted to believe that I could have a life where an eating disorder wasn’t the primary focus of my thoughts every day because I would be thinking of more important things. I wanted a real relationship with someone. Most importantly, I wanted to love…and be loved. I knew that if it would happen, it would be with this guy. This was my chance. So I gave it a chance. I said to myself, if it doesn’t work out, I still have my eating disorder. But for now, let’s try this and see what happens.
Two years later, we got married. It worked out. 
I am not by any means recovered, but creating a new life with someone has given me the love and higher purpose in life that I was desperately seeking. It has been instrumental in helping me re-discover myself. I’m still working on my recovery and always will be.
What was your turning point when you began your own recovery? If you have not pursued recovery, what would be the ultimate factor in helping you begin a life without an eating disorder? Discuss!
A recent blog entry by Aimee Liu got me to thinking about when I started the process of recovery and what prompted me into doing it. My process was very slow; I took my first go at it in summer 2004 after a long, long looooong talk with a friend who expressed his worry on behalf of himself and a few of our friends. They’d seen too much, but it’s not like I was really hiding it at that point because it was pretty obvious I was sick. Why hide the behaviors when I looked like death?
I sputtered along, sort of trying to recover but only half-heartedly. I loathed the few pounds I had gained from eating more and never really let go of restricting and purging. I didn’t allow my weight to reach a certain point and did whatever I had to so I didn’t surpass that magical number. It wasn’t until I met my husband, Patrick, in October 2005 that I began recovery in earnest. I had the choice of pursuing the relationship and shoving the eating disorder into the back seat, or the other way around. I knew Patrick was a keeper when we were talking in his apartment one night and I told him of everything I had been through in the last few years. This was early into our relationship, and despite this, he didn’t even flinch. He accepted me for me. No one else besides my family had really done that before, so that was the turning point for me.
Liu mentions in her post that two things happen simultaneously that mark the turning point into recovery: acute distress and hope. I would argue that I wasn’t in acute distress - I never hit the “rock bottom” that prompts addicts into seeking rehab when they have everything to lose if they don’t go - but hope definitely had its part. I wanted to believe that I could have a life where an eating disorder wasn’t the primary focus of my thoughts every day because I would be thinking of more important things. I wanted a real relationship with someone. Most importantly, I wanted to love…and be loved. I knew that if it would happen, it would be with this guy. This was my chance. So I gave it a chance. I said to myself, if it doesn’t work out, I still have my eating disorder. But for now, let’s try this and see what happens.
Two years later, we got married. It worked out.
I am not by any means recovered, but creating a new life with someone has given me the love and higher purpose in life that I was desperately seeking. It has been instrumental in helping me re-discover myself. I’m still working on my recovery and always will be.
What was your turning point when you began your own recovery? If you have not pursued recovery, what would be the ultimate factor in helping you begin a life without an eating disorder? Discuss!