Jump All In: Half Steps Don't Bring Full Recovery

After ten years of fighting for my life against a life-threatening disorder aimed at killing me, I have come to learn quite a bit about myself, especially regarding what works and what doesn’t work in the quest to save my life. And there is one common theme that I have proven true time after time after time. And that theme is regarding my approach to recovery, even my approach to life.

I know that in order to succeed in recovery, to succeed in the fight for my life, and to save Shell, I must jump all in. I must dedicate all of my energy, all of my strength, and all of my being, towards the fight for Shell. And most importantly, I must challenge myself to challenges that fully return me to my life, my freedom, and my happiness. Not just partially.

Let me explain.

Many times, especially during my attempts to recover, I have hesitated to make full steps forward, only taking half steps, if that, in attempts to give the allusion that I was making strides in recovery while still holding my eating disorder’s hand behind my back. Because I was too afraid to give the eating disorder up. There was still a part of me, no matter how small, that wanted to keep the eating disorder around, that couldn’t imagine life without the eating disorder. And the eating disorder took advantage of my vulnerable, weak state of being, preying on me, continuing to wound the already wounded part of me that wanted to hold onto the terrible disorder. So, despite my attempts to win back my life, the eating disorder always found a way to win me back, no matter how hard I attempted to half step my way to recovery.

Because half steps only give you a taste of recovery while feeding the eating disorder with hope and room for power and control. Half steps do not build up enough momentum to keep you moving forward on the path to recovery. Half steps are only a compromise with the eating disorder. For one moment, you experience the real you, your real life, and the freeness that comes with letting go of your eating disorder. But because you have not dedicated yourself fully to that step, your foot does not leave a footprint on the path to recovery, and the eating disorder quickly erases any recollection of the taste of recovery, convincing you that you never even picked up your foot in the first place.

This is what makes recovery so difficult. Because even when attempting to move forward, you have to truly and fully be dedicated to and aware that this process will be painful, uncomfortable, and scary, and not just for a mere second, for minutes, hours, days, even months. And that is why it is so difficult to make that full footprint permanent, because as we step down, we experience all of that pain and discomfort and fear, and it discourages us against pursuing recovery, because life according to the eating disorder seems so much easier and more comfortable. And at the same time, we are confused because everyone around us is telling us how great and happy and free our life in recovery will be, and we want to believe them over the eating disorder, but we haven’t yet seen that greatness and happiness and freedom for ourselves. So many more times than not, we take back our half step in fear that recovery will never be anything other than pain, fear, and discomfort.

We also don’t want to disappoint those around us who care about us so deeply and want more than anything for us to reach recovery. So as a compromise, we agree to take a step forward, but we only make that step a half step so that we can quickly resort back to the eating disorder when recovery gets difficult, whether that be in returning to our old behaviors or in turning to compensatory behaviors. And because the step was so small, the lapse back to old behaviors isn’t as obvious to those around us. And this is dangerous. Because it is convincing us to believe that we are making progress when, in fact, we are remaining in the control of the eating disorder, possibly even building up its power. The eating disorder sees half steps as its fuel, knowing that it can easily take us back again, forcing us into its reign, steering us farther and farther away from recovery.

But this doesn’t mean that recovery is a hopeless cause. Because there are full steps. And full steps have the power of being permanent and powerful and positive in the direction of recovery. Full steps do not leave room for the eating disorder to belief it has a chance. Full steps take away the power of the eating disorder, with each bite, each sip, each behavior eliminated, reducing the eating disorder to nothingness, giving it less and less of a chance of surviving to tear you down. Full steps are the key to recovery because they represent full dedication to recovery, a full desire for a life without an eating disorder, and a full commitment to your one, true, beautiful life.

Let me give you a personal example to make my point more clear. This past semester, I was very, very close to another full relapse. Having had to take the first semester off for a medical leave due to my eating disorder, I was very afraid going back into this semester that I would fall into the same fateful trap of the eating disorder and that I would truly lose all of the potential, hopes, and dreams that lie ahead of me. And with this past experience looming over my every move and decision, I wanted more than anything to avoid making the past my present.

So at first, I thought that any progress in the right direction would be enough to prevent a full relapse. And don’t get me wrong, it was still the right decision to start making baby steps towards recovery. But baby steps were not going to be enough to prevent the inevitable relapse the eating disorder so desperately hoped I fell into.

Here are some examples of half steps that had the right idea, that pushed me in the right direction, but only temporarily, and were not quite strong enough to give me the momentum that I needed.

A goal to increase my caloric intake starting with a 50 or 100 calorie increase almost always resulted in me increasing my calories for that day and then falling right back down to my previous calorie level the next day.

A goal to stop running starting with a half mile or mile decrease almost always resulted in me running that mile less for the first day and then resorting back to my previous mileage the day after or adding mileage to my walks to compensate.

A goal to stop measuring food on a food scale starting with not weighing packaged foods almost always resulted in me resisting the urge to place any packaged food on the food scale for the first day and then falling back to the old habit of weighing absolutely every food that entered my mouth.

A goal to start eating my mom’s home-cooked meals starting with making my own single-serving version of her meal almost always began with a close copy version of her meal and then divergence back into my own meals that followed the food rules my eating disorder created and adhered to very strict obsessive compulsions that prevented me from eating normal, delicious meals.

A goal to start eating out at restaurants starting with my “safe” restaurants almost always began with the act of going out to eat and ordering safe foods, but never following up with more difficult restaurants and foods, keeping me stuck in a pattern of never challenging myself to go out to restaurants without the nutrition facts posted or restaurants that were filled with fear food options.

A goal to stop body checking starting by picking one body part to leave alone, give compassion to, and begin to accept almost always resulted in me catching myself compensating for the behavior I had eliminated with checking other body parts more closely, spending more time in the act of body checking, and ultimately giving in to hating on the body part I originally chose to leave alone.

A goal to restore my weight back to its healthy range starting with gaining one pound almost always resulted in my eating disorder quickly sweeping back in to take back the pound. Back to square one.

Half steps had the right idea, pointing in the right direction, but they also left considerable space for the eating disorder to come back in, whether that meant convincing me to return to my previous behaviors or compensating with new, sometimes more dangerous behaviors. Half steps only represented half dedication to recovery. And half dedication to my eating disorder.

So when I finally came to the realization that half steps will never truly bring me to recovery, I decided that I had had enough of dragging out this recovery process, pushing off the life I so desperately wanted to live, and I knew that the only way I could live that life, and sooner rather than later, would be to start making full, complete steps towards my recovery.

So instead of attempting to increase by 50 calories week by week to get up to my full meal plan, I made a full step forward and jumped right up to my meal plan, completing one hundred percent of my caloric intake. And instead of falling back, I stuck to my meal plan, not just for the day, but for each and every day moving forward.

Instead of decreasing my runs by half a mile each week to eventually stop myself from running, I made a full step forward and quit my runs completely, deciding that the best decision for my health was to allow my body to fully rest. And instead of falling back, I stuck to my promise to my body, allowing it to rest and keeping it from the long, tireless, painful runs. And since that day, I have not run. And not only have I cut out my runs, but this past week, I made the decision to cut out my daily walk, as well, to completely take care of my body and to stop my obsessiveness around exercise.

Instead of picking just one food to stop measuring on the food scale to eventually gain up the courage to stop measuring food at all, I made a full step forward and gave my food scale to my boyfriend so that I wouldn’t have it in my possession and could fully detach myself from my dependence on it and the power it held over me. And instead of falling back, I no longer had the option to weigh my food, and I have begun to trust the calories on food labels, trust my intuition regarding hunger and fullness, and trust that I do not need to assign a number to every single food I put into my body.

Instead of creating my own versions of my mom’s home cooked meals in order to eventually eat her meals and cooking, I made a full step forward and began to help her choose recipes within a reasonable comfort level, proceeding to portion out the appropriate amount for my dinner and, most importantly, completing the meal, one hundred percent. And instead of falling back, I have continued to eat home-cooked meals, the meals that the whole family eats, and I have opened up my comfort zone to explore new recipes and foods.

Instead of sticking to “safe” restaurants at first in the hopes of building up the strength to eat out at my “fear” restaurants, I made a full step forward and picked restaurants that challenged me and were out of my comfort zone. I ventured out to restaurants that did not post their calories for their dishes, restaurants that went against my eating disorder’s food rules, and restaurants that only served fear foods. And I began ordering my fear foods instead of avoiding them, learning that they are quite tasty and that I actually enjoy these foods. And instead of falling back, I have continued to eat out, this week going out to eat five days in a row, ranging from a homestyle restaurant to a fast food chain to an ice cream shop, each time, pushing myself one step further towards my freedom.

Instead of picking one body part to stop body checking and start accepting in hopes to inspire myself to accept my whole body, I have made a conscious effort to stop myself from all body checking and have started the process of body acceptance, even some glimpses of body love. And instead of falling back, I have only moved forward in my quest for self compassion and self love.

And instead of starting with one pound of weight gain in hopes of convincing myself to gain the rest of the weight to reach my healthy range, I have committed myself fully to the weight restoration process, following all treatment recommendations regarding food intake and exercise, and allowing myself to accept the number going up on the scale without adding in compensatory behaviors to bring the number back down again. And instead of falling back, I have stayed on the right path forward, working my way towards my goal of living on campus at UCONN next semester. A goal that can only be achieved if I reach my healthy weight.

And so, time and time again, I have proven to myself that I must jump right in and take full steps towards recovery in order to reach the full recovery I want so badly to achieve. Full recovery requires full dedication. And full dedication means taking full, complete steps on the path to recovery.

So here is to many more full steps forward towards my life in full recovery. Because I am so ready to take my life back, and I am jumping all in, immersing myself in the freedom, happiness, and life that comes with being the one and only Shell.