It's the Little Things in Life

It’s the little things in life. That are, in fact, not so little in their essence. That make each and every day entirely worth living.

A smile. A hug. A kiss. A hand to hold.

A text message. A phone call. A letter.

The meaningful conversations. The laughter that ends in tears of joy. The smiles that are so genuine they shine as bright as the sun.

The warmth of the sun on your skin. The birds chirping. The blooming of flowers.

A puppy jumping up to lick your face. A kitten curled up in your lap.

Finishing a good book. Watching a funny movie. Finding a favorite TV show.

Listening to music. Taking pictures. Watching the sunset. Stargazing.

Sleeping in. Wearing cute clothes. Going shopping.

Making another person’s day. An act of kindness. Giving a compliment.

A warm shower. An afternoon nap. A cozy night on the couch watching your favorite show.

A home cooked meal. A night out at a restaurant. A late night dessert.

The ability to enjoy food.

It’s the little things in life that make the lives we live each and every day the lives we come to love and cherish, the lives that leave us feeling content and fulfilled, the lives that truly bring us joy and happiness.

And I have come to realize that the eating disorder has the main goal of stripping each and every little joy in life away, covering up its devious plan with empty promises to return the happiness and contentment if we listen to its commands.

But in the end, the eating disorder has the ultimate goal of achieving absolute zero. And unfortunately for us, that ultimate goal has only one outcome. Death.

And even if the eating disorder doesn’t quite reach its ultimate goal, it still blazes a path of destruction as it relentlessly works us down, taking away both the little things in life that make life worth living and the big things in life that make our lives, our lives.

And as we are stripped away from the parts of life filled with happiness, contentment, love, and fulfillment, we sink into a deeper and deeper state of depression and hopelessness, losing our sense of selves to the eating disorder, allowing it to gain the strength it had planned on gaining all along. The eating disorder is very smart, and it knows exactly what to do at exactly the right times to beat us down enough to take full control. And its main tactic: taking away the little things in life to disillusion us into believing that life is not worth living.

Many times, we focus on all of the big things that the eating disorder takes away from our lives, and in the process, we forget to note all of the seemingly little parts of our life that the eating disorder takes as well. And it is only until we have lost them when we realize just how important each and every little thing in life truly is, and no matter how big or small, it makes up the beauty of the life we live.

Every time I have hit rock bottom, I have looked in despair at all of the little things, and big things, in life that had been stripped away from me in the process of falling and failing. As I have sat that first night in my hospital bed on the inpatient unit, I come to realize everything I have lost to the eating disorder.

No more smiles, or laughter, or hands to hold as I sit alone miles away from my family, boyfriend, and supporters.

No more text messages because my phone has been taken away. No more freedom to make a phone call whenever I want because of the one phone line shared by 23 other patients.

No more free and worryless conversations because the only thing we talk about anymore is regarding my failing health, mindset, and behaviors.

No more warmth of the sun on my skin as I am bound to a locked unit that restricts our access to the beauty of the outside world. In fact, during my first inpatient stay, I was kept from going outside for all of the eleven weeks that I was hospitalized, stripping me of the warmth, beauty, and fresh air of summer.

No more listening to my own music, watching my own movies, and catching up on my own shows that characterizes the daily lives of most teenagers my age.

No more warm, luxurious showers as showers were now capped at ten minutes and only allowed in the hour time slot from 6 am to 7 am after weights and vitals. And not only that, no more privacy, as the bathroom door had to always be kept open and the bathroom had to always be checked before we were allowed to flush. Everything down to the amount we peed was recorded and put in our medical records. I couldn’t even do something as simple as go to the bathroom without being monitored.

No more sleeping in because weights were done at 5:30 every morning with blood work following. And by the time I was finished with weights, vitals, blood work, and showering, I was too wired to even be able to fall back to sleep. And no more morning, afternoon, or evening naps because the times we were allowed back to our rooms were very limited and most of the day was either spent at meals or in “groups”. And even if we did attempt to nap, there was a great possibility of being woken up for vitals, assessments, or meetings with a treatment team member.

No more wearing the clothes I wanted to wear because we could only wear loose-fitted clothing with no strings, and initially, all my clothes and belongings were taken from me to be inspected, and the only clothing I was given were a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt to keep my frail body warm. The rest took lots of pleading and time to get back, only to be handed a few more changes of clothing rather than the remainder of the clothing I had brought with me.

No more excited greetings from my dog or snuggles with my cat to bring a smile to my face. No more writing with pens or coloring with markers in our rooms. No more flowers to smell or look at because even flowers that were brought as get-well presents were stripped away from us as “contraband”.

No more freedom regarding any food choices, medical decisions, or treatment plans. And ultimately, no more ability to enjoy the joy of food or flavor or life in general because the eating disorder had taken complete control over my mind and body.

Needless to say, I was miserable, depressed, empty, and lost, as I was missing out on the countless things in life that make life worth living. Both the little things and the big things.

I was missing out on family, friends, school, events, summer, parties, vacations, and memories. I was missing out on my life. And all because the eating disorder had temporarily won the fight against my body.

But the fight wasn’t over. Because Shell is a fighter, and she wasn’t going to let her rock bottom become her reality. She was going to fight for each and every little and big thing in her life so that she could enjoy the fullness of life again.

And it has always been as I have gained these little things back with my steps towards recovery that I have realized just how much the eating disorder has taken away from me and just how wonderful life can actually be if I let the little things in life be a part of my life. In choosing to take back my life from the hands of the eating disorder, I eventually was released from inpatient care and began to gain back the freedoms, joys, and happiness that characterize everyday life.

As I stepped off the unit, I became aware of everything I was missing out on as I had chosen to solely listen to the voice of the eating disorder. The simple joys of a breath of fresh air, the music on the radio, the flowers in bloom, the blankets and pillows on my own bed, the ability to pee without anyone watching me, the freedom to nap, sleep, and shower when I wanted to, and the returning smiles, hugs, and laughter from family and friends which came rushing back into my life as I chose to take back control over my mind and body.

And with each and every step forward in recovery, I open up my life to more and more of the simple joys of life, appreciating each and every little thing because I know just how painful it is to have it stripped away from me. Although the journey has been a long, painful, and extremely difficult path, I am grateful for the appreciation it has given me for my life and the new perspective I have on not just my life but the lives and world around me. I have learned to never take life for granted, to never take every little part of life as a given, because at any time, those little and big things in life can be taken away, and it is so incredibly important to treasure these things while we have them rather than waiting until it is too late and the only choice we have is to long for the simple joys we once had.

As I approach the year marker since my relapse, although it has been difficult to look back upon these memories, I have used the contrast between this May and last May as a representation of the life I have gained back as I journey away from my eating disorder and towards my life in recovery. Having just finished a semester in college rather than taking the last month off from school to be hospitalized. Having the freedom to spend time with my boyfriend and family whenever I want rather than having only limited visiting hour times to hope that I can see them. Having the joy of summer at my fingertips rather than sitting in a hospital room only dreaming of the summer possibilities I was wasting away. Having the freedom to cook my own meals, explore new foods, begin to enjoy the taste of food, and be responsible for my own health because I am choosing to listen to my recovery over my eating disorder rather than giving up my life to torture my body with malnourishment, pain, and exhaustion. Having the joy of being free and happy rather than trapped and depressed. Having my life right in front of me instead of my death looming over me.

Each and every day, I appreciate more than ever the smiles, laughs, hugs, and kisses of my family, my boyfriend, and all my friends and supporters. I appreciate each and every conversation I have and deeply cherish the moments I get to spend with loved ones. I appreciate the warm touch of the sun, the beauty of the flowers, and the sounds of nature that surround me. I appreciate the coziness of my bed, the warmth of my shower, and the pure rest and relaxation that accompanies a nap. I appreciate the smile of a stranger, a simple hello or good morning, an act of kindness. I appreciate the life I have been given and every little piece that makes it whole.

In appreciating and enjoying the little things while I have them, I realize the entirety of the life I have at my fingertips and the entirety of the life I want to keep at my fingertips. Having lost them to my eating disorder not once, not twice, but three times, I am committed to never letting them go again. I only have one life, and I have the choice to either let the eating disorder win, stripping me of my life, or the choice to enjoy every moment of it, cherishing each and every part of it, and appreciating the simple joys.

And I have made my choice. I will never, ever let the life go that I have worked so hard to build up. And I will enjoy each and every moment of the life I know is not for granted but is the result of strength, courage, and persistence to win back my life. Because my life is a life I have fought for, and I have come to love and appreciate each and every moment of it, knowing that it is a result of hard work and the result of a fighter never letting go.

I encourage you to open up your minds and begin to see the little things in your life that truly bring you the joy, happiness, and fulfillment you long for. And not just see, but acknowledge and appreciate the little and the big things that make your life complete. Because the more you are aware of the little joys in life, the more happiness you will receive from them, the more content you will feel with your life, and the more possibility for living, loving, and happiness you open yourself up to.

It takes far more energy to be upset with the lives we live in. So why not channel our energies into appreciating the life we have right in front of us instead of chasing after worries, doubts, and disappointments that block our view of the beauty our lives hold? Life is never a given, it is a precious, beautiful gift. A precious, beautiful gift full of many, many little gifts that we must acknowledge and appreciate and enjoy.

Happiness is a choice. And the key to happiness is in enjoying the little things in life rather than racing through life in search of a false sense of happiness. Live in the moment. Appreciate each and every moment. And take each and every moment as a gift.

And happiness is also the key to recovery. Because happiness opens up your mind to the beauty of life and the beauty of living, revealing the beauty of entering recovery rather than holding on to the eating disorder. My eating disorder has taken away my life for far too long. My eating disorder has stripped me of a gift beyond all gifts. So now it is my turn to take back the beautiful gift of life and never, ever let them go.

It’s the little things in life that make life entirely worth living.

And it’s the little things in life that are, piece by piece, building up my beautiful, happy, love-filled life in recovery.