Weekly Update #5: Start Your Impossible

Three weeks of college are officially complete.

And for most college students, three weeks in means not much more than an increase in work, a pile up of readings, the beginning of exams, and finding the best parties on campus. But my three weeks in to college holds a special significance this time. Because this three weeks into college, there are no concerned conversations with UCONN administration regarding my need to take a medical leave for the semester and discussing the implications of such an absence. There are no panicked calls being made to an eating disorder inpatient unit, pleading for me to be admitted as my health quickly deteriorates. There are no thoughts of “How can she throw everything away, her talents, her education, her opportunities, all for a number on a scale?”, “Will her weak, exhausted body have enough strength to make it through the night?”, “Will this be the relapse that takes her away from us, the relapse that adds her to the mortality statistics of anorexia, the relapse that ends in a funeral instead of a life of full recovery?”

Instead, there are meetings set up with my UCONN advisors to speak about steps forward in my academic career. There are completed applications for nursing school and dreams to save lives as a nurse on an eating disorder inpatient unit, using my experience to inspire, using my recovery to build recovery in others. There are thoughts of “She’s really doing it”, “She’s really making it through”, “She’s really Saving Shell”.

Six months ago, three weeks ended my first attempt at college.

Today, three weeks marks the start of a completely new realm of possibility, life, and recovery. How I choose to begin my new realm of possibility is completely in my hands.

And my realm of possibility holds a significant message: Start Your Impossible.

This is my time. My time to prove that the recovery that has felt so impossible for so long is absolutely, completely, one hundred percent possible. My full life in recovery is possible, and the time is now to start proving to myself that I am capable of turning impossibility into possibility.

And I am the only one with the power to turn my impossibility into possibility.

I must admit that I am a bit scared. A bit overwhelmed. A bit intimidated. I am completely responsible for taking this realm of possibility for my own and not letting my eating disorder grab it away from me. And, unfortunately, the eating disorder has a manipulative hand that strikes when it senses vulnerability, weakness, and any sense of hopelessness in its victim. This week has marked a very vulnerable time for me. And although I continue to hold on to dear life for my realm of recovery, I am fighting extremely hard to counteract the pull of the eating disorder.

Tears flowed slightly more than normal this week. Exhales of desperation and anxiety frequently escaped my body. Physical and emotional torment seemed a bit more relentless than before. Vulnerability, weakness, and slight hopelessness. My eating disorder saw this. And there were times during those tears, exhales, and torment where I questioned if I had the strength to stand up to my eating disorder again, whether I truly was going to end my three weeks in the same way that I did sixth months ago. But as I continue to stand on, fighting through one step at a time, I have proved that I do have the strength necessary to win. And it is indeed possible to feel vulnerable, weak, and slightly hopeless and still stand strong to the eating disorder. It may pull, but I will pull harder.

This week, although characterized by more vulnerability and weakness than I would like to acknowledge, also held moments of realization, strength, and hope. Often times, when I have experienced such vulnerability and weakness, I have willingly given myself to the eating disorder, throwing my hands up and letting its deathly hands grip hold of my life. This week was different. I felt the vulnerability, the weakness, the slight hopelessness, and I decided that there was no part of me that was happy with the way I have been treating my body, allowing my eating disorder to make the calls regarding my health, decisions that it claims are conducive to a successful, happy, productive future, while in reality, its decisions only lead me towards failure, depression, and death. The farthest possible reality from what I truly desire.

And, this time, I am getting mad at my eating disorder. I am getting mad at it for taking away my first attempt at college and wanting to take it away again. I am getting mad at it for lying directly to my face, attempting to deceive me into believing its untruthful, deathly commands. I am getting mad at it for replacing my health with sickness, pain, and suffering, for replacing my happiness with depression, for replacing my life with lifelessness.

I am getting mad at it. But I am not getting mad at myself. And I am being careful to get mad at my eating disorder, and not getting mad at myself because self compassion and self acceptance are going to be the keys to restarting my path towards recovery. I am going to kill my eating disorder with kindness for myself.

This was very difficult for me to remember this week, finding myself frequently beating on myself for engaging in the lies of the eating disorder rather than resisting its temptation and following my inner healthy voice. For losing sight of the motivation I had not long ago to reach my goal weight in order to achieve my full physical and emotional potential. For struggling to cut down my walking despite an increase in physical side effects. For missing my sick body and the false feeling of safety that accompanied the status of being a patient.

But I have also realized this week that I cannot discredit the effort I have put into this fight. And that, although my progress may not be as linear and progressive as I hoped and imagined, my progress has resulted in making it through three weeks of school, and not just making it, continuing and succeeding, little by little.

Little by little. Finding the motivation to eat my full meal plan. Beginning to spread my food out more consistently through the day. Adding variety to meals and snacks, expanding my food choices outside of my previous, limited, controlling list ruled by my eating disorder. Challenging myself to eat pizza from Bertucci’s. And not just one piece. Allowing myself to lay down and rest my weary body. Giving my Garmin watch to my boyfriend, knowing that this is the most important first step in taking less steps. Starting to listen to my body’s plea for mercy, eliminating steps and adding life and energy back into my body. And most importantly, making it to week four with no sign of stopping.

With a new realm of possibility ahead of me, I am ready. Ready to Start My Impossible. This is a brand new week, with brand new possibilities, brand new expectations, and brand new chances to make my impossible possible. So, as always, I have developed a set of goals to help me conquer the week:

Step less to step more in recovery. Fill my free time with reading, resting, and relaxing rather than walking.
Follow ALL recommendations regarding my meal plan. Be willing to make any necessary changes following my appointment with my dietician this week.
Write down all of the reasons I want full recovery and have this list accessible when I feel tempted to listen to my eating disorder over my healthy voice.
Make the leap to eating home cooked meals again. Eat at least one home cooked dinner that I don’t know the exact nutritional content for.
Stop micromanaging calories and portions by getting rid of food scale once and for all.
Begin researching volunteer and community service opportunities to boost my path towards recovery.
Let 19 be my year of recovery. My year of freedom, strength, happiness, and full, beautiful recovery.
Start My Impossible. Just start. Any little step counts.