By the time I was 18, body image no longer drove my eating disorder. I knew I was attractive. I knew I was thinner than most. Did I always see myself like that or feel like I was? No, but doesn’t every girl have times like that? I held onto my eating disorder like my life depended on it. Like it was the only constant in my life since age 12. I held on, because along the way, bad things happened that I never dealt with. I had blocks of time that I was scared to face. I felt that if I let go, there would be a flood.
I did not need to be treated for my eating disorder when my heart problems escalated. Been there, done that. I knew the ins and outs of Anorexia Nervosa. How to treat someone with it. How to renourish the body. How many calories it takes to gain a pound. How the initial weight gain completely distorts one’s body image . How to challenge that distortion. How being around other people with eating disorders is not helpful at all. How Anorexia Nervosa is a mask, hiding what is truly going on. Social anxiety? Depression? Family problems? Lack of self esteem? Identity crisis? Trauma? I did not need anyone guiding me through recovery. I needed to make it to recovery, and then I would be fine.
Conor and I moved to Tulsa to open the flood gates. There was one person there that could help me. Someone that I had known since I was 15. Someone who watched me convince my entire treatment team to let me leave the hospital when I was 17, malnourished, and nowhere near ready to leave. Someone who knew how smart I was despite the fact that I dropped out of school when I was 16. A doctor who treated Veterans for PTSD. A doctor who knew how to break down my walls.
Moving to Tulsa was my only hope, and I wouldn’t have done it without Conor. He opened my eyes to the possibility of a life. He gave me hope. He showed me what caring truly is. He helped me see and understand how I should be treated. He knew I was close to dying and that even if I did make progress, there was a good chance that I would fall right back into old patterns. When I asked him what made him look past all of that, he said he had no choice.
Thank you for reading My Story Part 2!
I am not ready to answer questions, and I would appreciate it if comments were kept to a minimum. : )