Turning 180 Degrees

                Today I visited the adolescent eating disorder program at St. Vincent Hospital.  It was both an exciting and nerve-racking experience.  The last time I walked through the doors of that building was the day I discharged from my own treatment.  I remember feeling a mixture of emotions that day as I prepared for outpatient care and left the program behind.  So much has changed since then.

                My mom and I walked toward the building off of the main hospital together, and my heart was racing.  I kept praying to be calm and to just be myself around the current patients.  I wanted to show them the happiness that I feel in my life now.  I really wanted them to understand that eating disorders are something you can recover from. 

                We waited in a lobby until my previous therapist came and greeted us.  That moment was so sweet.  He and I hadn’t seen each other since I discharged, and both of our smiles were huge.  I can’t express how excited I was for him to see me as I am now – strong, healthy, independent, and happy.  The job of a therapist for teens with eating disorders is a very difficult one, and I can only imagine how rewarding it must have been for him to see that I had made it through.  It must be one of the greatest feelings to know that you really did help save someone’s life.

                I greeted other therapists that I had worked with as we entered the part of the building designated for eating disorder recovery.  Their smiles were huge as well, and I felt like we all still knew each other - like I discharged yesterday.  Seeing them again and seeing their smiles felt greater than I can comprehend.  It felt so incredible to greet them as a friend, and not as a patient.  It was interesting to be on the other side of the glass, so to speak.  I really enjoyed the feeling.

                I saw the room where most of my care took place, and it was bittersweet.  Every time someone discharges from the program, they put their handprint on the wall with paint.  I found mine on the wall, and those of other people I had been in treatment with.  I found words I had written: “Happy is Beautiful.”  Memories rushed through my mind.  I smiled, but there was also a feeling of sadness and curiosity.  I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the teens that I’d been in treatment with.  Did they make it out?  Are they okay now?  I’ll probably never know, and I doubt I’ll ever see them again.  Standing in that room made me think of them and all that I had gone through.  It was almost surreal to be there.

                My mom and I were led to a larger room where we were able to meet with the current patients and their parents.  It was like a walk down memory lane.  I remember sitting in that room and listening to therapists and dieticians teach me about how eating disorders negatively affect the body.  I remember talking about different kinds of food and how our bodies need them to function.  I remember making meal plans with my parents and anxiously trying to decide what I was going to eat.  I remember watching other patients cry out of anger, fear, and frustration.  I remember my mom pulling me out of the room and letting me cry on her shoulder when it all just go too overwhelming.  Emotions flooded my body as I sat to face the teens and parents in that room.  On the wall I saw a quote that read, “I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become,” and it calmed my spirit.  Those words strengthened me as I prepared to speak to the group in front of me.

                I shared my story with them – the story of my journey through recovery.  I saw in their eyes a reflection of the girl I used to be.  I loved each and every one of them, even though I hardly know them.  I understand what it’s like to have an eating disorder, and they could tell.  Their eyes watched me intently as I spoke of my struggle that began when I was 12, and their parents were just as interested.  I talked of the day in 8^th grade when my mom finally found out what was going on.  I told them about the work that I did in outpatient treatment as a 14 year old, and how after a year of care I thought I’d figured things out and was finally free.  I talked about relapsing at 16 and defying my parents and counselor as they tried to help me.  I told them about how the eating disorder took over my mind and filled it with thoughts that were not my own, though at first I thought they were mine.  I told them about my treatment experience in the adolescent program at St. Vincent’s, and I talked of how I finally got to the point where I was able to discharge.  I told them about the work I’ve done this past year in outpatient care.  I was realistic with them about how I’m still recovering.  I wanted them to understand that though I discharged a year ago, I still have to fight eating disorder thoughts and feelings.  They’re not nearly as strong or intense as they were when I was in the program, but they are still there.  Recovery is a long process, and I wanted to them to really grasp that.  I encouraged them and told them that it’s worth it to fight, that things can get better, and that there is so much out there that they can experience and love once they are free from their eating disorders.  The more I spoke, the more comfortable I became.  It was liberating, in a way, to share my story with them.  It felt really good to try and give hope to people like me.

                My mom spoke of how she and my family supported me, and she expressed how hard it was.  That was the most difficult part for me – hearing about how she sobbed against my dad when I wasn’t around and prayed to God begging, “Please don’t let my daughter die.”  Her words brought comfort and understanding to the parents in the room who were eager to hear of how they could help their children.  I’m so grateful for what she said and for the insight that she provided.  There is a reason God gave me the family that He did, and I am so grateful that they are a part of my life.  My family is the reason I got through.  They helped pick me up when I didn’t have the strength to stand on my own.
                Many of the patients and their parents asked questions, and I loved answering them.  It felt so good to tell them about what worked for me, to comfort them, and to provide them with hope.  I cannot express how deeply it touched my heart to be able to help.  The feeling was incredible.

                When my mom and I left after an hour and half, we were thanked by many of the parents and patients, and my heart was full of love, gratitude, and joy.  I desperately hope that some of the words I said helped the dear people in that room.  One of the last things I’d told them was that an eating disorder is the worst and best thing that’s ever happened to me.  It was an incredibly hard experience to go through, and I would never ever wish it upon anyone, but it has greatly shaped who I am.  I have grown in ways I never could have if I hadn’t been so sick.  The person I am today is significantly defined by what having an eating disorder has taught me.  It was kind of revelatory for me, to say those words out loud and realize that they are true.  It’s great to know that they are. 

Throughout this past year my life has changed drastically.  No longer a patient, I can now reach out and help others.  I feel as though I’ve turned around 180^o.  Though the journey has been rough, it has been remarkable.  I can hardly wait to see what life has in store for me.  I’m ready for more adventures.