Understanding the nature and extent...

of our disease was a large part of the treatment process. Every Thursday afternoon we had group family therapy sessions, and each patient was required to give the history of their disease to the group. At first, I was mortified, and flat out refused to participate. It really was noone's business how my disease started, and how long I had been sick. I didn't feel like explaining myself. I was in treatment, I was getting the help I needed, so who cared about the past. Right? Wrong. Understanding how and when your eating disorder started is imperative to the recovery process...without that understanding, you can't nor won't get better. And come to find out, relaying this to a room full of people (mostly strangers) really isn't that bad afterall. So in order for you to understand my disease, I feel like it's important for you to understand how and when mine started.

I remember the first time I ever binged and purged like it was yesterday. I was fifteen and a sophomore in high school. It was a weekday afternoon, and I was babysitting down the street from my house. I was in my cheerleading uniform because I had to cheer at a basketball game later that evening...and I was starving. I was starving because I had been dieting for most of the school year. Dieting consisted mostly of fat-free, low calorie foods, and limiting how much of them I ate. Basically eating like a bird. But that afternoon I remember deciding to have a snack. I was only going to eat something small I thought...and it would be something healthy. One minute I was staring into the refrigerator at all of the food, and the next thing I knew I had eaten so much I could barely breathe. I went from one extreme to the other in a matter of minutes. I don't necessarily remember the entire thought process going on in my head after that, but I do remember one thing...I felt this overwhelming urge to get rid of everything I had just eaten. My stomach was so full and distended that I panicked. Sheer panic soared throughout my entire body like and I knew there was only one option at that point. My body was on automatic pilot. I went into the bathroom and I made myself throw up. It was disgusting...painful...scary...and actually pretty hard to pull off the first time (in case you're wondering, making yourself throw up is a learned technique...it doesn't just happen easily). But once I was finished I remember feeling this sick sense of empowerment. It was almost an elation. I thought: 'I can control what goes in and out of my body. I can control my food, how much I eat, and if I eat too much I can easily get rid of it'. I was hooked like a drug addict after snorting that first line...there was no turning back.

That day plays over and over in my head like a broken record. I often wonder what my life would be like today if I had just made a different decision that day...if I had had more self control at that very moment. But now I can't see my life in any other light because my ED is all that has consumed me for more than half of it. I feel like that one decision is the one that has dictated much of my existence for the last fifteen years. It just amazes me.

There is so much more that goes into an ED than just deciding one day to throw up. I definitely didn't wake up that morning and tell myself 'I think I'll become bulimic today'. The first half of my life played a big part in my disease as well, but I'll write about that some other day.

I hope you'll stay with me throughout this blog so you can see how I learn and grow and become the person I've always wanted to be. Thanks for your support too, I couldn't do this without you.

Today's affirmation: "It does not matter what the disease is. There is always room for hope. I am not going to die one of the statistics".