Anorexia, anyone?

           This is me. I am in recovery from an eating disorder. When I was 11, I got anorexia, which I had for about 2 years. Then I switched to bulimia and exercise addiction (the parentals weren't too happy with my losing my period as soon as I got it, and the "YOU-WILL-SIT-THERE-UNTIL-YOU-EAT-THAT!!!" power struggles always ended in victory for the forces of maturity as soon as my dad started crying), which lasted until I left for college at 16. I soon existed that it's difficult for hours of elliptical to coexist with hours of chemistry homework, so I said bye-bye to the exercise, too, and settled for binge eating disorder, with an occasional laxative overdose to tide me over.

            I am a tried-and-true treatment believer, by the way. Been there, done that. I have cried for my parents sitting in a room full of strange adults who weigh less than a normal 13 year old, and I have surfed the internet for hours (reading both the "pro-ana" sites and the "You have an addiction to sugar! Never touch the substance of the devil again!" gigs). I have done a lot of other things, too. Really stupid things, a lot of them, but they were done when I was horrifically sad.

            I finally found recovery, at 18. It's weird, sometimes, to think that I had an eating disorder for 7 years and yet considered myself 'mostly better' at about the same time I was legal. It's also weird to tell you that the spring and summer I was in treatment was the first time in my life that I can remember ever being happy.

            Which, by the way, leads me to recommend something: antidepressants. And topamax. And wanting to get better more than anything else in the world. It can work. I promise you, I did not believe it. In-patient therapy was my last attempt before the big "Good bye, world. Smell you later."

            I've been in a great relationship with a great guy for a year now. Out of treatment for almost 2. I have a job, I have dreams, I do things with my day and I legitimately enjoy them, instead of thinking "This is something I can do to waste my time instead of not eating."

           I eat to live now. 2 years ago, I most definitely and absolutely lived to eat, or to avoid eating, depending on my mood.

            Still, sometimes I want to raise a toast and say, "Anorexia, anyone?"

            That's the way I start to feel at a certain time of the month, or at least part of me wants to blame it on hormones. I'll be honest, deep down, I have an idea of hormones as creepy, purple, 12-legged creatures with gigantic beaks just galloping through my body looking for an opportunity to belch out a binge-urge or bulimic moment.

Hormones are kind of like Shelob

    When this happens, I - per usual - decide it's time to return to da meal plan. You know, the one that got me out of a locked treatment facility where you couldn't use the restroom alone, and back into normal life? Yeah, that one.

    So that's the idea behind this blog. I know there are other people out there who know what I mean when I say that "Trying to be happy" or "Just eating" isn't the answer. I want to hear from you. I'm going to blog daily, here, about following my meal plan, as well as about what recovery methods or motivational tricks I find useful. I would love to hear from others who are interested in the same, or who just want to talk about the loneliness of an eating disorder.
 
Because if there is anything I have learned, it's that support from people who know is one of the most powerful things there is.