Showing posts with label EDNOS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label EDNOS. Show all posts

I am Divine: National Eating Disorders Awareness Week



I Am Divine

Spirit teaches me that love is unconditional
to all, for all even if not always by all
I live this
I breathe this
I do all that I can to embody this


but I hate my body
I put conditions on my body
i put conditions on myself


I love God and feel Spirit move through me
Spirit is in me
Spirit is me
so if I hate myself
I hate Spirit
which is the antithesis of all that i believe
all that i am all that i teach all that is fluid in me


My core belief crumbles when facing the mirror
for today can i love myself the way that God loves me?
for today i can love myself the way that God loves me
for today i can find value in all that i am
not who i am because i already value my who
but "that" i am
it's the physical parts that get compartmentalized
in this fluid organic Spirit that I embody, that I love, that I preach, that I live... I lock away the part of me that needs this Spirit the most


i love the person who cuts me off in traffic
i love the person who turns her nose up at my tattoos
i love the child who is being belligerent
i love the spouse who searches for answers in the alphabet store
i love the parent who knows best
i love the co-worker who never gets it right
i love the bill collector who harasses me
i love the neighbor who judges me
i love the person in the seat next to me who smells bad and talks too loud
i love the person who hates me
i love the me who hates me


i'm working on that last one
i'm calling all Spirit to guide me
raise my consciousness and help me see the beauty in this body
this body that is called to do so much
this body that is the vessel of my Divine Spark
this body that serves an ultimate purpose right here, right now, every day and every day on
this body that is screaming to be loved
this body that is making itself more and more apparent that i might glimpse its being and value its worth
this body
my body
the body of God
the precious one
the child
the chosen
the created
the creator
the author and actor
the writer and director


an authentic self is the most personal form of worship
an authentic self is true
my self revolves around my belief
my core belief crumbles when faced with a mirror

Written by: Babetta of Lived, Composed, and Illustrated by Babetta



Picture source:

It Has Nothing To Do With My Weight: Kelly's Story


I was only 3 years old when I wish that I could cut the fat off my little rounded, protruding tummy. That’s the age my body image issues started. As for the eating disorder itself I do not even know. Maybe around 15 or 16 for occasional binging and if not binging, then overeating. I was maybe 20 when I started restricting.

My story is hard to tell for me. Not because of the details but because there are so many twists and turns in it. This is what I remember in great detail during my childhood; having surgery on my bladder at the age of 3 and thinking that I had done something wrong and that was my punishment, my mother’s stomach, my mother standing at the refrigerator in the middle of the night binging on cottage cheese, my thighs, again my stomach, my mother counting calories and feeling very old for my age in kindergarten. I had already gone through so much more than my classmates had. I felt alone and very scared.

When I got a little bit older I can remember; my first diet at the age of 14, how much I weighed, how my body was different than my friends, gaining weight by eating the candy bars I was suppose to sell for cheer-leading, trying to purge and breaking blood vessels in my eyes, being jealous of a previous friend who was clearly anorexic, counting my calories and feeling inadequate in all areas of my life. I was compared to my twin sister that excelled in school. School for me was a social thing and I didn’t apply myself at all. I always wonder how things would have been different if they had given me my diagnosis of ADD/ADHD in high school instead of when I was 30.

Around 19 or 20 I had broken up with a boyfriend and binged through the end of the relationship which resulted in a large weight gain. I decided to join weight watchers and was very happy that I had consistently lost weight and got down to my goal weight. Which I stayed at for about a day. I couldn’t stop right from the start. Just as an alcoholic, which I am; couldn’t put down a drink; which I couldn’t do, I also couldn’t stop losing weight. Until I got scared. Then I’d try to gain a few lbs; which I did but couldn’t stop THAT until I hit the previous high weight. I did this over and over in record speed between my 20’s and 30’s. I went from disgusted at myself for a high weight to being scared for myself because I was anorexic. I did the cycle probably about 4 times a year or so, maybe more. I couldn’t get off the roller-coaster ride.

My problem went undiagnosed, even from a doctor who asked me if it bothered me that I wasn’t getting my period. My favorite excuse to anyone, especially myself was…I’m only 5 fool 1 ½ inches tall. I could be at a very low weight and still fall in the guidelines for normal weight or slightly underweight. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t getting my period or bones were sticking out…I fell into the “healthy” weight on “the” charts. My body was never meant to be at the low end of those weight charts. I could never get low enough in weight to satisfy me.

Things started clicking for me that I had a eating disorder when my best friend’s little sister asked me bluntly, “Are you on drugs or just an anorexic?” I was shocked but her words made an impression on me. It didn’t stop me from using any behaviors…I was merely becoming aware that I had a eating disorder. I continued my up and down weight while I met my first husband. He loved it when I was in my anorexic stages and withheld love when I wasn’t looking what he considered was my best. I went through a bitter, horrible divorce when he walked out on me and literally skipped the state. It doesn’t just happen in the movies…it was happening in my own life. At the exact same time many horrible events started to unfold. Between May 1998 and May 1999, these events happened; my husband at the time walked out on me and fled the state of Minnesota leaving me unknown to his whereabouts; I lost my job; my Dad died; My truck that was repossessed; I was forced to file bankruptcy; my husband filed for divorce, my husband tried to sue me for filing bankruptcy which has never been done in the state of Minnesota, BUT that’s a whole different story in itself, and the little apartment that my mother embarrassingly had to co-sign for went up in flames, literally and I lost every piece of everything I had, which I had no renters insurance for. But considering they told me I was minutes away from possibly dying from smoke inhalation put losing all my possessions into perspective for me. Basically I had lost everything I ever had. I was so low that I didn’t know if I was going to ever get up again. I was so scared that God was putting me through all of this drama to get me ready for “something” bigger and I couldn’t handle bigger.

That was a lot to go through in a one year time span. It took me at least 2 years before I could even function in society. I was certainly a mess and I certainly used restricting and drinking alcohol as a coping mechanism, not to mention smoking 2 packs a day during this time. I liked how drinking dehydrated me and always after a night of heavy drinking with no food my pants was always loose on me and I craved that feeling. I was certainly quite the mess during this time. I was in so much pain emotionally that I don’t know how I survived. But I kept putting one foot in front of the other and with panic attacks and all, I managed to get to a place in my life where every living minute wasn’t filled with pain. It took me many years to get there.

I remember my first smile I had after a few years with no real laughter. I was driving home from work listening to Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline and when they get to the part that goes, “good times never been so good”…I smiled a REAL smile. It was a break through moment for me. Many good things happened to me during those “sad” years but I just couldn’t feel any joy. I did make some wise decisions though. I had met my NOW 2nd husband at the job I was working and KNEW there was no way that he was going to fall for me like I already had for him under these self sabotaged conditions that I had put myself into.

By the Grace of God, I quit drinking. I was also going a outpatient program which I had started going to in 1997. I started dating XXX (my husband) and I was starting my life over. I had come far in the few years and was complimented by close friends how I was a true survivor. I had grown closer on my journey with my relationship with God during “those” years and with quitting my 2 pack a day habit, now I was starting to build a foundation for myself. Sounds good but I was also purely using my eating disorder as not only a coping mechanism but it was my fun, it was what I knew and could do well, the low weight made me feel important and I got attention. Most of it was unwanted attention because I always hated how people came out of the woodwork when I was thinner. I hated hearing “wow, you look good” when I knew I was actually battling an addiction that I couldn’t control.

Rumors started at work about me which made me self conscious. I guess they weren’t rumors….when it was the truth. I WAS the girl in the license bureau who was anorexic. I wanted to be thin for me…not for anyone else and my weight would usually result in a small gain when the attention got too much. I also was scaring myself getting my weight to where I wanted it. I was, or thought I was in total control.

Between the ages of 29-34 I did my “pattern” of gaining weigh only once or twice each year and I mainly stayed at a low weight. At the age of 34 I happily got pregnant and did a shotgun wedding when I was 4 months along. I was sooo happy. I was having the baby I always wanted with the man that I so desperately wanted and needed in my life. Life was good. What a turn around from the previous 5 years. Life was what I wanted although I was anxious as hell.

While I was pregnant I was so anxious and mostly binged and overate to self medicate. I watched the scales rise once I let the nurses start weighing me for fear that something may be wrong with my daughter. I gained a very, very large amount of weight. I stopped weighing near the end so I don’t know what the actual total was but it was a lot. Then it took me approximately the 10 weeks I was off of work on maternity leave to lose it all in record time by restricting and starving myself. I had to get rid of the weight because I could not handle feeling the way I was feeling.

Once I got the weight off I relaxed a lot and for the first time ever I ate with not using eating disorder symptoms. I intuitively ate and it felt good and was very freeing. For about a whole year I was able to do this. Around xxx’s first birthday I had gained a little bit of weight and fear set in. I could NOT do another round of the up and down game. I think I may have been going through some post partum depression and quite sure that my body was giving in from going through a rough pregnancy and delivery and the starvation that followed. I started to sink again with fear of being a mother and fear of gaining weight. One thing lead to another and next thing you knew I was in Arizona going through a 30 program at XXX.

It was tough and when I came back I sincerely tried to eat. But I was angry for gaining weight, which was barely anything, and my team for refusing to tell me my weight in treatment. I had to take matter into my own hands again. I lost what I had gained plus some and then just continued to be in group and tried hard to recover. I really did want recovery by this time. I was tired of playing my never ending game. One really good thing came out of going to XXX. I started attending Eating Disorders Anonymous meetings. It was such a homey comfy feeling like I got when I went to AA meeting that I knew I had to start a meeting in Minnesota since we had NOTHING for support groups 3 or 4 years ago. My friend XXX and I started meetings at her house every Sunday night and then eventually moved the meeting to a nearby church. I got and continue to get a certain type of support from attending the meetings that I don’t get from going to professionals.

Starting EDA was one of the best things I have ever done. Now I serve as xxx of the General Service Board of EDA and continue to use service work as a means of recovery. I learned in my early days of quitting drinking that you really have to give away what you’ve got in order to keep it. At least for me it works. In fact most of the AA slogans work well for me….ones like “take what you can and leave the rest” and “it works when you work it…it really does” gives me a sense of responsibility that I have for my recovery as well as staying in my disease whether it’s a eating disorder or drinking.

Then I don’t know what happened but when my daughter was almost 3 years old I had a lot of flashbacks to when I was in the hospital when I was 3 having bladder surgery and I think I just lost it completely thinking of my own precious little daughter going through what I went through. I don’t remember much over the course of a few days but apparently, I called my therapist like 15 times in a row one night and for some odd reason he put a 72 hour hold on me. It was a total nightmare and I’m still trying to deal with all the details of it because I don’t remember and don’t really want to. But I was locked up for 10 days at xxx Hospital on the psych-ward. To boot, I was in the “side for dangerous people”. Not proud moments for me. I won’t even go into detail about it because I am still shocked at myself that I was acting that way. Of course many traumatic things happened in there but the worst in my opinion was when one of the doctors said to me about my eating disorder – “you’re not THAT thin”. Maybe the fact a doctor was talking to me so unprofessional snapped me out of “it” because I was only there a few more days after his comment.

It was horrible in every way but a very good thing came out of it. They put me on a antipsychotic medication that has changed my life drastically for the better. I doubt they would have ever put me on a antipsychotic if I wasn’t acting psychotic so it all turned out okay. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Anyways, I eventually forgave my therapist, forgave my husband, and forgave myself. I still have a hard time talking about those events those 2 weeks. I still don’t understand what happened. And I’m scared shitless that it could happen again. Part of my aftercare was to be in IOP and groups and continue to go to EDA meetings.

Shortly after I got out of the Hospital , I started to restrict during the day and then binge at in the middle of the night. Usually I don’t remember much of it, but in the morning I have the sinking feeling of “what did I do last night?” Funny, just like I did with drinking. My binging at night on top of eating a normal food plan resulted in a big weight gain for me. That was little over 2 years ago. I binged at night and restricted during the day. My eating disorder had totally morphed into something else now. I was diagnosed with Bulimia, non purging type. Now typically I have never purged in all my eating disorder years because it felt like too violent of an act on my body but I was so freaked out about weight that I did the unthinkable. I purged. I think it was the next day I went into my therapist’s office and said, “I need help”.

I was sent to an in-treatment facility for 30 days. It was extremely hard to leave my daughter and husband to get treatment but I couldn’t go on anymore. I had a very good experience while I stayed at the house. I was able to break through some barriers and close some doors as well as quitting the horrendous cycle of restricting then binging in the middle of the night. I told my mom and sisters for the first time ever about my eating disorder. Of course they still say everything wrong but I am happy I told them for my own sake. I am done hiding.

I am starting to be proud of myself and proud to be me. I have a husband who truly loves me regardless of what my weight is and fully supports me in every way imaginable. I opened up to my stepson about the eating disorder too. I’m tired of secrets and have spent the same amount of energy protecting my recovery as I did protecting my eating disorder and alcoholism. In all honesty, I still protect my alcoholism. I am not sure where I want to go with that. I don’t have a problem talking about it to others in recovery at all but outside of that I feel that is private. My Dad died of Cirrhosis of the Liver due to his alcoholism and I’d like to think that I silently ended a destructive pattern that ran in our family. That’s not based on shame but rather not wanting to bring energy to it.

Back to the in-treatment facility…that was last May through June and the recovery that I have made since then has become the final stretch. All though I am still working on things and honestly trying to lose the weight that I haven’t been able to lose the last 2 years I am the happiest I think I have ever been which is ironic that I am the heaviest that I’ve ever been. I started a blog of writing letters to my body and ED and vice versa. That is perhaps one of the best tools that I have encountered in my career of therapy/groups and treatments. Some other recovery tools that have significantly helped me have been putting my baby picture up on my bathroom mirror and every time I see my picture I say something nice to that little innocent beautiful baby. I’ve been doing that for 3 years now and it’s really made a dent into healing early childhood traumas and hurts. The last one, is trying to end the fat talk. I still go in spurts of doing this but I have been very aware of how I talk to myself and the relationship that I am trying to grow with myself. I don’t want to be mean to myself anymore. I want to love who I am which has nothing to do with weight.

Yep, 13 years of coming to the outpatient program and almost every form of therapy to be able to say that one sentence out loud. In case you didn’t hear me, it has nothing to do with my weight! I can honestly say that all though I may not LOVE myself quite yet, I don’t hate myself either. And that’s made all the difference in the world.

written by: Kelly M of Dear Body



There Is Honor In The Fight: One Woman's Story



For years I was sick, but didn't understand with what, or what to do about it. I couldn't eat, everything I was able to eat made me sick. I got a little better, then a lot worse. Finally what had apparently been clear to my friends became clear to me, I had an Eating Disorder.

My first intake appointment at the Emily Program (where I am currently getting treatment) was hell. The therapist was as sweet and as supportive as anyone could hope for, but I was terrified. It all got much easier after that, after admitting that I was sick and asking for help. I decided very soon after that first appointment that I was not going to hide the fact that I have an illness, and that I am fighting it.

When anyone asks what I have been up to, or what I do, I tell them, with my head held high that I am in treatment for an eating disorder. Its interesting to see the different reactions I get from people. Some of them get uncomfortable and look for any other topic to turn to, some of them get curious and ask me all manner of questions.

I'm not sure why I am so open about having and fighting this illness. I think it has something to do with knowing I will win. Also, I wonder, if people had been this open about their eating disorders when I was sick and confused, if I would have sought treatment sooner. Also, I recognize the courage and strength it takes to fight this. I know that what I am doing is more than most people do for themselves at any point in their lives. I know that I am taking the time I need to lay the groundwork for the rest of my life. I know that I am facing demons so terrifying and sneaky that many people prefer to just live with them, rather than try to eradicate them once and for all. I know that this disease is not my fault, there is no shame in it, in fact, there is honor in the fight. I hope other people see that too.

written by: anonymous





picture source:

Body Image Statistics


Video by:H2Oh518

Statistics from video:

  • 8 million people in the US suffer from an ED
  • 90% are women/girls
  • 8 out 10 women are not happy with their reflection
  • 80% of children are afraid of being fat
  • more than 50% of 10 year old girls wish they were thinner
  • Americans spend more than 40 billion a year on diet and beauty products
  • The average American woman is 5'4" and 140 pounds
  • The average American model is 5' 11" and 117 pounds
  • In your lifetime 50,000 people will die as a direct result of their Eating Disorder
  • The current media ideal of thinness is achieved by less than 5% of the female population

It's Time To Talk About It: I Used To Know A Girl



I used to know a girl

A girl who was happy and free

That girl was me

But then ED hit

And she willingly welcomed it

Thinner and thinner she became

Anorexia was the blame

Faster and faster she would run

Killing herself before she was done

The girl soon became too ill

No longer did she have the will

To the life she had been handed

Anorexia had landed

I used to know a girl

Who could not feed herself a bite

Who knew she thought that wasn’t right?

The girl became so weak

Her life was truly bleak

But she did not see the failure

Just only the ED’s allure

Down her throat her hand slid

Nothing. So she cut her wrist and bled

The girl I knew did not flaunt

Because her life had no want

The girl you see

Is shamefully me

No longer is she a stick

Recovery left her stomach thick

Still, the girl has no want

And her ED is back to haunt

Really, she’s trying

But she can’t help the crying

Recovery hurts

But the

ED burns

Written by: Kourt
age 14


I Choose Sanity: A Journey To Recovery



I Choose Sanity

i walk slowly to the light
knowing the journey will not be easy
but i refuse to sit and do nothing
because i am worth every step i take

i may fall backwards
and want to give up
to give in
but these fleeting thoughts i will let go

i will let go of the desire to be perfect
to accept who i am in this journey
to know there is a light at the end of the tunnel
that i am worth the journey

it may be hard
i may cry
i may feel pain
but these moments to shall pass

a little walk is better than sitting frozen
i may take two steps back and one step forward
but this is ok
it is ok to be who i am

for these are just moments
and they too shall pass
i refuse to give up
and be defined by it

for i am more than i can see

i choose to see me in my loved ones eyes
to see what they see
to believe in that
and to one day get back to that place in my own mind

written by: Kendra Sebelius via A Voice In Recovery.



*See sidebar menu for more ED poetry and writings

*Click here to have your Eating Disorders/Body Image poetry/writings featured on Weighing The Facts

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Virtual Candlelight Vigil: National Eating Disorders Awareness Week


The Alabama Network For Eating Disorders Awareness (ALNEDA) has brought back their Virtual Candlelight Vigil again this year. They invite you to light a candle to honor individuals whose lives have been touched by an eating disorder.

The colors of the candles have the following meanings:
  • White candles: Remembrance, for individuals who have lost their lives to an eating disorder.
  • Silver candles: Support for individuals who are struggling with an eating disorder.
  • Gold: Celebration for individuals who are in recovery or who have recovered from an eating disorder.
Candles will be on display today through the 27th.

Why not start National Eating Disorders Awareness Week by lighting a candle for a loved one and/or yourself...

Light A Candle

View Lit Candles

ALNEDA's homepage

Picture source:

Eating Disorders: Seen Around The Web



Why It’s Time to Change Our Thinking About Weight: A Q&A with Linda Bacon


Margarita Tartakovsky, MS


Fat is vilified in our culture. That, unfortunately, is a fact. We think that weight loss will lead to many a splendid thing, including health and success. We think diet and lots of exercise will help us lose weight and maintain it. We’re always on the lookout for the next secret to weight loss, some pill, supplement, new workout craze, anything that’ll bring us closer to reaching our goal.

But there’s a reality that we rarely hear about that seems overshadowed by shows like The Biggest Loser, which illustrate big losses, and media attention, fear and unhelpful regulations about the obesity epidemic. Schools ban cupcakes while grocery stores reward thinner employees. Our assumption of larger bodies being unhealthy is deeply ingrained.

That’s why I’m so thrilled to present part one of my interview with Linda Bacon, Ph.D, author of Health At Every Size: The Surprising Truth About Your Weight, a book that reveals the reality behind weight loss and dieting. Linda is a nutrition professor and researcher in the Biology Department at City College of San Francisco. She’s also part of a movement called Health At Every Size, which emphasizes health, not weight. It doesn’t demonize fat and it doesn’t encourage weight loss. Instead, it encourages honoring and listening to our bodies, moving our bodies and eating in a flexible way.

Below is part one of my eye-opening interview with Linda, where she presents solid research about the many, many weight-loss misconceptions that we accept every day as facts.

1. Q: Can you talk about some of the biggest misconceptions about weight loss and the so-called obesity epidemic?

Read Q &A in full here.

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Toxic Levels Of Self-Hate

Melissa Groman LCSW /Hope Forward

....There are, I think, a thousand possible causes of eating disorders. And there are a thousand cures. There is no one explanation, and no one path to recovery. We can rage at culture, analyze family dynamics, hang our hopes on genetic markers. Each story is uniquely crafted by biology, experience, environment and development. But this much I know to be true, each person that I have ever worked with who has an eating disorder suffers from toxic levels of self hate. Sometimes its obvious, and sometimes its swimming around like a shark just below the surface.

Read in full here.

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Question #16: Forbidden Foods & What It's Really About

Actively Arielle: A Voice With A Commitment

"In these years of anorexia, I've stopped eating a lot of different foods (most of them, except fruits, vegetables, yogurt and meat), and some of the foods I've stopped eating, they have become some kind of 'forbidden': I still can't eat some of them (such as pizza, ice-cream, hamburgers, wrustel, etc...), while I eat hardly some others... So, I wanted to ask you: have you lived something similar? If yes, have you solved the problem, or are there 'forbidden' food to you, right now? Moreover: how did you solve this problem? How can you resist to put out again some foods from your nutrition?"
It may surprise you to know that I have no "forbidden" foods. I also have no "safe" foods. I eat everything, and I do mean everything. I'm not even a picky eater. There are a few foods I naturally dislike like creamed corn, french onion soup, and scallops, but I've disliked them since childhood. Other than those and a very few others, I eat anything and everything. When I was dealing with my anorexia...

Read in full here.

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What The Eating Disorder World Wants Mrs. Obama To Know

Laura Collins Lyster-Mensh /The Huffington Post

In the eating disorders world, putting any child on a diet is not only unacceptable but appalling.

In the eating disorders world, a father referring to his child as "chubby" and commenting on her eating habits is not only frowned upon it is reviled.

In the eating disorder world a mother who felt her children were "perfect" should not be corrected by a doctor who points to the children's weight as altering that.

In the eating disorders world it is well-known and embraced that healthy children rapidly gain weight as they approach puberty.

Read in full here.

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Dove and Diversity: Not Just For Women

Sharon Haywood

Ads for cars, beer, and action movies typically dominate the costly airtime during Super Bowl. But during The Big Game of 2006, it wasn’t another Bud Light commercial that captivated viewers. Instead, the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty reached an estimated 90.7 million football fans via a 45-second spot that promoted Dove’s Self-Esteem Fund. Dove's manufacturer, Unilever, created the hard-hitting video, True Colors, enlightening the audience—many of them parents—to the importance of fostering a positive body image in girls. And this year, they will do it again.

On Sunday, February 7th Super Bowl XLIV airs another spot that celebrates body diversity. This time, men are the focus:

Read Dove and Diversity in full here.

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Body fat- it's not a bad thing

Carrie Arnold/ ED Bites


A new study confirms previous research that a higher percent body fat is associated with better outcomes for anorexia, and that lower body fat percentages are associated with relapse (Bodell and Mayer, 2010). The research isn't exactly groundbreaking, nor is the science--it's a pretty straightforward statistical analysis--but the results bear repeating. For most of my treatment, I've had clinicians low-ball my weight. They'd use some sort of plug-n-chug formula and tell me what I needed to weigh. Only twice was I asked what I weighed before the eating disorder during these "What should healthy Carrie weigh?" conversations. The second time, I lied because that is what people with eating disorders do when they are terrified of gaining weight and want to avoid it at all costs. Nothing egregiously inaccurate, but still.

Read in full here

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The Strength Is In The Foundation

Elisabeth from Letters To My Body.com

February 26th will mark my 4th year in recovery from my eating disorder. Four YEARS! Can you believe it?

In anticipation of this four year mark, I’ve been very thoughtful lately about my past, where I’ve been, how I arrived there, and how I have come to the place where I am now. And where is this ‘place’ that I’m talking about?

The place is happiness.

The place is peace.

It is a place filled with the knowledge that I don’t need to obsess about every morsel that passes my lips, and the confidence to know the difference between hunger and pain (or hurt or boredom or anxiety).

It is also a place where I trust in my own body to tell me what it needs, and have the ability to forgive myself in advance for any over-indulgences that may occur on occasion.

I no longer live in a state of instability and chaos (inevitably dictated by the number on the scale each morning). Oh, what a total relief THAT is!

Above all, I’m coming from a place of love, kindness, and compassion.

This place was not discovered easily. It took a lot of work, self-doubt and determination. In all truth, much of the time, I faked it till I made it. It’s still not easy at times, and I have my own personal struggles just as anyone with past (or present) disordered eating does. However, the bottom line is this…

Read Foundation in full here.

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Trimming The Budget-Not Just For The Arts & Music Anymore

Tracey Mere /The Givens That Are Our Graces


Albany's governor proposed budget eliminates funding for eating disorders in order to keep the focus on obesity and diseases related to obesity.
"In comparison to obesity and diabetes, eating disorders affect relatively few New Yorkers," said Claudia Hutton, spokeswoman for the state Department of Health.
The governor's budget will end the $1.7 million annual subsidies to the state's three eating disorder centers, including $500,000 to Albany Medical Center. The cut would eliminate Albany Med's entire budget and close the eating disorder program.
"It creates a huge void in the services we've been able to develop," said Dr. Sharon Alger-Mayer, medical director of the Northeast Comprehensive Care Center for Eating Disorders at Albany Med.
The program serves about 2,000 people through outpatient services and 50 people who need to be...

Read in full here.
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BEFORE SIZE ZERO: THE WAY WE WERE...

Medusa


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Unattainable Beauty: The Decades Most Egregious Retouching Scandals

Newsweek

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Girls' favorite cartoon characters get make-overs (not good ones)

feministing.com

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Mom Camps Out To Get Spot In Mental Ward For Son

Newsobserver.com

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picture source:

Eating Disorders: A Look At What Some ED Bloggers Are Talking About



The Paradox Of Choice
ED Bites: Carrie Arnold

On my move, I had lots of time in the car in which to listen to music, think, and try to ignore Aria's backseat yowling. To help pass the time and keep me awake, I downloaded a bunch of TED Talks onto my iPod. They were an eclectic mix, from anthropology to physics, but they kept me awake and alert for many hours.

One that left a lingering impression in my brain was a talk by Barry Schwartz, author of the book "The Paradox of Choice." I've blogged on the book before, but there was a brief phrase in the talk that really caught my attention. Schwartz was talking about buying jeans, and how many years ago there was only one style of jeans, and they fit very badly. More recently, Schwartz went out to buy a new pair of jeans because his old ones had worn out, and he found a mind-boggling array of jeans from which to choose. Ultimately, he did find a pair that fit better than before, but with such variety available, any issues with how his jeans fit was his problem, not the jeans'.

Let me try to explain this better.

Read The Paradox Of Choice in full here.
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A Factor Of Starvation
Are You "Eating With Your Anorexic?": Laura Collins

Years ago I spent time in an airport waiting area with a mom and her young son with autism. The silent young man, she said with both chagrin and bravado, lives on a diet of fresh MacDonald's french fries, milk shakes, and megavitamins. At the time I appreciated both her honesty and her predicament, though I think I probably had some smug disapproval going at the same time. These were his boundaries, and this mom was not catering to whims, she was loving him and taking care of him from where he was. I did not know that some day I would understand this mom's nurturing in a very personal way, and that I would continue to wish that I could go back and really hear her and make sure she felt supported and understood, if only from a stranger.

When you spend time in the ED world you cannot help but notice how often you see certain traits in patients, many former patients, and often in family members. Things like difficulty with 'set shifting,' a blinding focus on detail, and difficulties with correctly interpreting the emotions of others. There is a lot of talk now about a connection between autism and anorexia.

Read A Factor Of Starvation in full here.
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Join The Online Boycott Of Ralph Lauren
The-F-Word: Rachel

Remember the Ralph Lauren shrinky-dink hack job of already underweight supermodel Filippa Hamilton? Followed by them firing the same underweight supermodel for being too fat? Now the producers of America the Beautiful are waging an online boycott of the unrepentant fashion house.

On behalf of all the girls who feel ugly, overweight, and just not-good-enough;

On behalf of the parents who worry, cry, strive to help their daughters, and shell out $20,000 a month and above for eating disorder treatment centers;

On behalf of all the Mothers, Daughters, Sisters, Aunts, women everywhere who have ever been made to feel insecure by the magazines, billboards, ads, and television commercials;

We are calling for the Boycott of Ralph Lauren products.

Read Join The Online Boycott Of Ralph Lauren in full here.

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Dealing With Your Eating Disorder And Parents As An Adult

Actively Arielle: Arielle Becker Bair

This week's video is in two parts, because what I had to say took a bit longer than 10 minutes. :) The topic of the video is: Dealing with your eating disorder & your parents as an ADULT --'cause let's face it, they affect us even when we're grown or we carry issues with us.

Click here for Arielle's Blog and Links to the Videos

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13 Years Old And Anorexic: Kourtney's Story

Medusa

Kourtney's story...

"It all began when I was a mere 13 years old. Almost exactly one year ago. I was running cross country, having fun with friends, and getting into fashion and clothes. Life was great, I was happy and healthy, and everything seemed "perfect."

First, came the OCD. It hit like a brick to the face. I started feeling anxious about running and times. I started calculating times of 3.5 miles in my head, obsessively. All of the sudden, nothing seemed to trigger it.

The OCD caused me to isolate from friends because I was so trapped in my head, all of the time. So habitual, so compulsive. I stopped going shopping with my best friend over the weekend, and all I would do between classes was look at the school record times, calculating how I could obtain them with my current times. All of the isolation led to depression.

Once the depression hit, I stopped eating, but just a little bit.

13 Years Old and Anorexic in full here.



The Turning Point In Her Recovery: Carnation




Today is the final day of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week 2009.


Following is a story written by Maria. Dieting since the age of 8, she was anorexic and bulimic by age 13. Now 17 years old, she's looking forward to April when she will celebrate a year in recovery. She says she's proud of her recovery but fights daily to stay in it.


She wrote this story after a stay in an ED facility. She calls it her "turning point." Her wish is that others may read it, find hope, and be inspired to take steps towards recovery.

Carnation

7:59, 8:00 , 8:01 . Even though the clock was across the room, the tick of its hands could still be heard by the small girl sitting down at the table in the midst of a showdown. A showdown of epic proportions, one that Clare could not lose.

There the food sat in all its glory screaming and tempting her to eat it, but she, with all her determination, refused. Not because the food looked gross; in fact, it looked delic

ious. The two bran muffins were golden brown with pieces of oats protruding out at the top making it look like the petals of a sunflower. The bright crimson apple was firm to the touch, and even though Clare dared not eat it, she knew it would be crisp just the way she liked it. Even the small Cheerios box seemed to smile warmly at her, as if saying that it was okay to eat its small grainy circles.

But Clare knew better. She knew that the bran muffins were carefully disguised mounds of fat. That the Cheerios were hidden calories. And the apple, though it looked good, was just another way of saying that she really did need this food to survive. Clare refused to believe it, and just glared at the food as if her staring might burn it into the table and make the whole tray disappear.


8:14, 8:15 , 8:16 . “Good morning, Clare,” smiled the nurse until she spotted the tumultuous war that was going on between Clare and her untouched tray of food. “Have a bad night?” the nurse inquired with her sweet voice that sounded as if she might truly care. Clare could only nod a slow, depressive yes and let the strands of her long

sandy brown hair fall into her face. I am so sick of eating food, Clare thought. I don’t need it; I never did. I can’t gain any more weight! I’m humongous! I really should go to a fat camp and lose weight, not come here and gain weight!

“Perhaps,” continued Cindy, not noticing the war going on inside the girl’s head, “maybe I should go find a barrette and pin that lovely hair up so we can see

that pretty face of yours?”

“No, that’s okay,” Clare quickly stammered looking up for only an instant to peer at the nurse with only one eye. Clare quickly replaced each strand in front of her face again, happy that the safety blanket of her hair would continue to provide her with comfort.

“Well, you better start eating,” reminded the nurse as she walked out

the door to her desk again.

But you can’t eat, shrieked the voice inside Clare’s head! You’re a fat and worthless pig! You don’t deserve the food! And do you really want to get any bigger?

You’re right. I can’t get any bigger, Clare acknowledged the voice within. I won’t eat this! I am determined not to! No more fat! No more fat Clare!


8:20, 8:21 , 8:22 . “Good morning, Clare,” said a pretty brunette college student with piercing eyes that had finally started to sparkle again. An older woman with sandy blonde hair and a big smile walked in with her.

“Morning, Shannon , morning Sarah!” exclaimed Clare with as much enthusiasm as she could muster for such a bad day. “How are you? Did you both have a good night?”

“It was alright,” started Shannon . “I talked to my brother and that went really well. A lot better than I had expected.”

“Awww well, I’m glad to hear that! I’m happy that went well for you,” said Clare this time with true enthusiasm.

“Mine was alright too,” stammered Sarah, “I have a bad headache, though, because I haven’t had any coffee in the last three days and it’s killing me! I guess I really do have an addiction to it.”

“I’m sorry, that sucks. I hope you start to feel better soon! I’m not having a good day either…” the lost teen continued with a mesmerizing sigh and a stare towards her untouched tray.

The two fellow patients looked at the food and knew exactly what she meant. Clare had been sitting there for half an hour without touching a single thing on her tray. It was go

ing to be a horrible day, but the failure was masked by the ringing pride that voiced in her head.

It was the tenth day of intense treatment and Clare could not take it anymore. Every day three meals had to be eaten and Clare could not remember a time when she had eaten three meals in… well, as far back as she could remember at the moment. At least she knew it had been a long time ago, way before all this mess had even started. This was life for Clare and she had become comfortable with it.

But people started to notice the strange little things that Clare did— the cutting of her food into small pieces, only eating fruits, taking hours to eat one thing. However, soon Clare’s friends discovered her nasty little companion, and so that was how she soon began going to the hospital every day.

The walk into the building had been torturous. Slowly pushing herself through the large old building, she ambled forward with her head hanging low, reeking of low self-esteem and non existent self-confidence.

The only good thing about the hospital was the nurses. Clare always chatted with them before they had to take her vitals and weigh her. She never minded having her low vitals taken; they were just another delightful reminder of the great job she was doing. But getting weighed was agony. The sluggish movement of the nurse’s fingers over the dials were wat

ched for any signs of a mistake that might have been made. Silent prayers were made in hopes that the numbers would not go up. If she was lucky, they would go down. But Clare was never lucky.

Trying to calm herself from the weigh in, Clare grabbed her manil

a folder and proceeded to fill out charts on the crazy emotions that she could not even identify. How could she possibly know if she felt anxious or worried or mad? After finishing, a slow pause came. The worst part was about to come. It was time to get breakfast.

Shuffling towards the cafeteria, Clare walked as slowly as she could, like a death row inmate on the final walk to meet the end. Not wanting to be seen or heard, she silently entered into the scary food emporium. The next step was to check the menu. Grabbing it with much hesitation at what would have to be eaten that day, Clare, looking calm on the outside but having a

panic attack inside, reached out and grabbed the small white list. Amazing how much distress could be caused by such a small piece of paper! And today was worse than usual!

After having gained six pounds in three days, Clare could feel the fat engulfing her entire body; it started to feel like she was being suffocated from the inside. She had been told that food was necessary for her well being and health, but it couldn’t be true. No way was

food necessary. Not now, not ever! Food made her fat— obese people are not healthy!

After a long breath Clare worked up the courage to look at the deadly choices of food she would have to consume for breakfast. The prognosis was awful. The calorie count had been upped to twenty-one-hundred! A torturous amount. Insane, actually. How could one human possibly eat this much in one day? Clare whined in her head. That’s seven hundred calories at every meal, which is way more than I would even eat in a day! Are they trying to

make me obese? Because it surely will happen with that many calories every day!

Looking calm as usual on the outside, Clare silently walked over to the glass refrigerator. Maneuvering her arm carefully, she tried desperately not to brush the nauseating whole and chocolate milks on her way towards the fat free skims. Once her hand was safely away from the loathsome products, she carefully weighed each skim in hopes of one being li

ghter than the rest. Maybe one has fewer calories then the others, she hoped desperately. Walking over to the muffins she noticed two were needed for today. Peering over into the brown box filled with frightening and appalling carbs, Clare examined each muffin carefully looking from all angles to find the tiniest one. On to the apples, the only safe food.

Not wanting to touch all of the apples, Clare moved the scary bananas and oranges to the side first and then glared at the array of fruits until she found the perfect one, a s

mall and crimson Macintosh. Last of all and definitely the worst, she spied the peanut butter, a man made substance consisting of pure fat, sugar, and lard.

Fat! All fat! Clare’s thoughts kept screaming in her head. This is wh

y you are obese, the voices continued, because you are eating pure fat!

I have to grab it. It’s on my meal plan, Clare said, trying to reason with the voice. I’ll take it but I won’t eat it! I promise!

Then just as quietly as she had entered, Clare trudged with her tr

ay back to the little room with cream walls. And there she sat not giving into the food’s allure. Through the nurse’s quiet little pleadings and Shannon and Sarah’s hellos and the picking of their own menus and trays, she knew they would make her eat. The thought made her sick.

8:50, 8:51 , 8:52 . The girls quietly chatted but not as cheerfully or as much as some other mornings. Each girl struggled with her own thoughts that morning, but none was brave enough to admit it. They never could; each was a prisoner in her locked up mind— a place from where each dared not escape, no matter the price.


9:02, 9:03 , 9:04 . “Good morning,” said the heavy-set therapist

named Janine, as she strolled in cheerily with a happy little smile. “Is everyone ready for morning check in?”

“I guess,” replied Shannon . “I can go first this morning, if you want.”

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Janine, with an exasperated smile and eyes half peering at Clare’s food. Slowly, in a half whisper, she remarked, “Clare, can you

please start on your tray?” The small girl looked down and pushed it a little closer to her, but did not touch anything on it, as if the tray was contaminated by a deadly disease. Good job! Her thoughts congratulated. That’s right! Show that food who’s boss!

Shannon slowly started talking about her night. It was eventful and after reciting most of what had happened, Janine meticulously went through each event to show her things that might be done better next time.

“I can go next,” volunteered Sarah after Shannon finished, knowing full well Clare would not be as upbeat about going next. “I just wish I didn’t have this headache,” Sarah started. “It’s hard to stay focused and stay on track with my meal plan.”

Janine again went through the long routine of going through each part of Sarah’s night, looking at the crucial elements as if life depended on them.

“The lack of sleep and the migraines are really starting to get to you. Do you have anything you can take for it?” asked Janine in a worried voice. “You’ve had this headache for a while now.”

“Yeah, I took some stuff but what I’m going to have to do is get some coffee,” stated Sarah. “The coffee here stinks though. It’s pretty nasty! I need to

go and get my Starbucks!”


9:44, 9:45 , 9:46 . “Clare, are you sure that your weight has really gone up six pounds in two days?” questioned Janine after finally hearing about the messe

d up little girl’s night.

“I’m positive!” shrieked Clare, again feeling the fat start to enclose her like a blanket. You’re obese, Clare, obese, her voice shrieked inside of her. Not even worthy to live!

“It’s probably just water weight. It’s not possible to gain that much weight in two days,” Janine stated. “Is this why you’re not eating? Should I just go and get y

ou a meal supplement right away?”

“Isn’t this why most people don’t eat?” Clare sneered sarcastically. “And you might as well get me a Carnation, cuz I’m not eating this!”

“All right, I’ll get you one,” answered Janine a little depressed.

10:00, 10:01 , 10:02 . “Here you go, Clare. I got you strawberry,” the therapist said in a hopeful voice. “You have till 10:30 to drink that.”

“Thanks,” whispered Clare, barely audible. But I’m not drinking that, she thought. Fat people should not have the luxury of drinking shakes.

At least the tray was gone. No more peanut butter, or milk, or muffins—just an icky caloric loaded strawberry Carnation mix, a pretend shake that tastes like someone took cardboard and syrup and blended them all together. The horror tha

t one little drink could really supply all the calories missed at one meal! Disgusting. . .

Crap, thought Clare, as she saw the head therapist Pam walk into the door for the next group, this is not good!

“Good morning everyone,” Pam said in her matter of fact voi

ce. Heading straight for Clare as if on a mission, she pointed, “I see that you have a Carnation, Clare. I’m going to have to have Jessica take you out of the room until you finish that.”

Of course, the one therapist who would not allow this kind of crap to happen would be the therapist for the next group therapy session. At least I get to be with Jessica and not someone else, Clare felt with a twinge of a smile. I really do like her a lot. Jessica has a way about her. She’s terribly funny and always seems to understand, which is us

ually not the case with many of the other therapists. They just don’t get it.

“Hey Clare,” Jessica was calm but looked a little worried, “I hear that you have to finish that. Are you ready to do it? We can both drink our drinks together,” she laughed as she lifted up her Starbucks in all its irony.

“I’m not drinking it,” Clare answered immediately without a mom

ent’s hesitation. “You can drink yours, but I won’t drink mine!”

“Well, for now let’s just go into the other room and talk, okay?”


10:47, 10:48 , 10:49 . “Clare, what’s stopping you from drinking that Carnation?” inquired Jessica. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Well,” Clare started slowly with tears starting to well in her eyes, “I . . . can’t. I can’t drink this. I’m already super fat and I won’t allow myself to get any more obese! I’m a monster!”

“Clare, you are VERY thin. Your body needs this to stay healthy. Can’t you see that those voices that are telling you that you are too fat are actually killing you? They are the enemy, Clare.”

“I know, Jessica, but they’ve always been there for me when no one

else has. They’re always there. They never talk behind my back. And they’ve never failed me. When things were hard they showed me how to forget the pain. And besides, you’re just trying to make me fat.”

“You and I both know that is a lie, Clare. You say the voices have helped you through the pain, but can’t you see how they’ve made your pain worse? They’ve locked you up, and you can’t get out. They’re hiding your beauty from the world and especia

lly yourself! You’ve got to start telling those voices that you are the boss and not them. You are the boss, Clare! Don’t allow them to do this to you. Everything they say is false. It’s okay, Clare, it’s okay that they’re wrong!”

“But they aren’t wrong! This is how I feel. I am a failure! A horrible person! I’m not worthy of food! An imperfect body reflects an imperfect soul! How true that is for me! Can’t you see why I can’t eat when all this is true!?! Why should I even live? I am a worthless person with no future!” Clare’s body seemed to fall back in shock as she realized that th

ose words were starting to allow her to escape from her gruesome prison.

“That is so wrong!” Jessica shot back. “You have so much to give this world, and slowly killing yourself is not the answer! Your body is not a definition of the wonderful person that you are inside! You are a wonderful person Clare! And you have touched so many people in such positive ways. Clare, you have helped every girl here! They improve with your s

upport!”

“They help me too…” Clare agreed weakly

Silent tears started to fall from Clare’s eyes. The drops floated down like a soft pitter patter rain after a frightening storm. She knew the truth. She had always known it but just never allowed herself to believe it. The truth was painful and it was easier not to believe it. But at that moment for the first time, Clare allowed another person to come into her life—to sav

e her.

Taking a bigger gulp from the Carnation this time, Clare started chatting with Jessica about different things, things that seemed a bit more normal--like the love of black nail polish they both shared and the chill CDs they enjoyed listening to.

Finally coming to the last few sips, Clare burst out with pride to Jes

sica, “I’m done!”

“Good job! I’m really proud of you. You know that, right?” The young girl nodded with twinkling eyes.

How simple a concept, how hard a job, Clare thought. Say no to my voices and drink the Carnation. Easy to say, not easy to do. Every day I am going to have t

o fight off those voices—the ones that say, “You’re ugly. You’re hideous. You’re grotesque. You’re obese. And you’re not worthy of food.” I know I can do this though! It’s going to be an ever lingering struggle, but I’m a fighter and I am going to try!

I guess drinking this Carnation was good for me today. I now sort of see what’s going on. My eating disorder has the power over me. As much as I like to think it’s giving me control, it is really controlling—my whole life! Control over food is not real control.

My so called control has led me here to this place. A place where I am broken down and forced to learn how to pick myself back up again.

“I can’t go on anymore like this Jessica,” Clare remarked with a renewed confidence that surprised even her. “Thank you for everything. You’ve helped me a lot today.”

“I’m proud of you, Clare. You can do this! You can take back control

of your life!”

“I will. . . I will. . .”

Maria


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