Any of us who have fought any addiction can fully understand the exhaustion and frustration that come along...even if you no longer want them invited. One thing I have learned, we all have a burden we are carrying that we no longer wish to and yet...here we are. I wish us all so much love & light and I will continue to hold space for the grips of addiction to let go from our hearts and so we may find more and more pockets of peace. xoxo
I turned 50 a couple of months ago and I realized I was harboring this thought in my head of "just get to 50 and you'll no longer have any fucks to give". That's what I've heard over and over. I realize I just turned but damnit, I did not wake up a different person. I still care a lot, I still can rattle off calorie counts and protein grams for most of what I eat, I still know the difference in calories between a small, medium and large banana and I still buy the smallest bananas at the store. It's such bullshit yet here I am. I tell myself these are just thoughts, let them go, and keep moving. And yet, I really just want them gone. It is so reassuring to read your work. Thank you.
I can relate to this. I was doing ok until perimenopause when my body just went haywire and I looked different from how I ever had, and nothing I did could change that. It is completely out of my control, and that is a very scary thing for someone who struggled with an ED. Personally, I think researchers need to look at how perimenopause affects those who've had an ED in the past because I think it brings in a whole different set of issues than for those who haven't. It's really hard.
Thank you for bringing this up and it’s such a good point - it seems rational to think that perimenopause can unearth a lot of dormant ED thoughts and behaviors and I wish there was more awareness around this!
As a 53 year old, I can attest to the fact that being done with this shit is something people with disordered eating patterns only dream about. Is it better? Yep. Is it completely gone? I, too, wish.
RecoverED, just like being a recovered alcoholic isn't' a thing.
We're all doing our best. Thank you, Amelia, for keeping this conversation real and out here. The more we all talk about it, the better hope we have for normalizing talking, finding help, and not being ashamed.
Thank you for sharing!!! It is so common for younger people in treatment to think they’ll be completely free when they’re older. And being in treatment at 40+ has been so hard!!! It felt like everyone there was saying they didn’t want to end up like me… Like you, I’ve found there are times of reprieve, but those thoughts still make their way to the surface at times, and it’s exhausting to constantly fight so hard!
Your story about your aunt resonated with me. I watched a similar thing happen with my grandmother after she was in long-term care with Alzheimer’s. It is so difficult to fight your own mind.
Amelia, thank you for continuing to share your story. I think a part of caring is simply being alive, and it's 100% natural. At the age of 37, I still look around the room and instantly feel "ugly" compared to other women, and I've been struggling with that my whole life regardless of how much I've worked on my own thoughts towards myself. So, I can relate to having a certain part of the mind that just won't turn off and can understand how hard it is. One thing that has helped me is knowing that physical appearance is just the outer shell and that what's inside the heart is what matters most! ❤️
I entered treatment for anorexia when I was 30 and everyone preached the ideal of “complete recovery” but I could never wrap my brain around how that was possible. How do the thoughts ever turn off…. I’m 46 now and they don’t. Sometimes they’re quieter, sometimes you have better comebacks to shut them off, and sometimes they’re really loud still but you have to learn to not act upon them. I had hoped to reach that magical point where you don’t care anymore and am starting to think that will not happen. But for those of you who manage to get there, that’s fantastic. I am also jealous.
This is relatable in so many ways. I’ve written a lot about the ongoingness of eating disorder recovery, and we need more spaces like this to talk about it. I think of recovery as being an imperfect a work in progress rather than a final destination. Thank you for your work! 💗
Amelia, I completely agree with your definition of recovery. The thoughts and obsessions will probably never entirely disappear, but they do get quieter and quieter. If you work on them and more importantly if you work on the rest of your life.
I'm now 56, I have never been anorexic but an emotional (binge) eater and yo-yo dieter since my early teens. All your thougts about the aging aply just the same. For me the most important improvement is that now I respect my body and its functionality a lot more than I did when I was young. And it is from this point of view that I try to take proper care for it.
I have spent 22 years struggling but the last 3 years have made more progress into recovery than I’ve ever made before. I’m starting to believe that recovered may be possible for me, or at least a very strong ongoing recovery. One of the main motivators to working this hard and challenging myself/gaining the weight/being so darn uncomfortable the last few years was watching my mom die of Alzheimer’s. Although she was never officially diagnosed with anorexia, she had an eating disorder/disordered eating my entire life. The first few years of dementia were awful, as the eating disorder seemed to take on new strength as she lost her ability to monitor what she said (she didn’t have a filter anymore). But eventually, as the dementia progressed, I saw her relaxed and enjoying food, for the first time in the 34 years I had been alive. Although we only got to see this for 6 months before she died, it was enough to push me to realize that I didn’t want to wait until 6 months before I die to recover.
I have an 18-year-old niece who is currently struggling with an eating disorder. She spent a month in treatment facility last fall and did everything she needed to do to get out as quickly as possible. Two months after her release, all her progress has been erased. Her weight is exactly where it was when she went into the treatment facility. Even with weekly doctor's visits and lab checks, her potassium levels continue to drop (at times, critically low). Her medical team has been very blunt with her, even telling her when she went into treatment the first time that she was "hours away from death." The most heartbreaking thing about it all: my niece doesn't think she has a problem. She still believes she is in complete control and can get better any time she wants. She believes that she is healthy enough to go to college this coming fall. She still thinks it is okay to eat one meal a day and go to the bathroom 20 minutes after she eats. I've watched family members plead with her to see what she is doing to herself, only to watch her lash out and cut those family members out of her life. I wish there was something I could do to help her. Reading your blog at least gives me hope that one day she will admit that she has a problem and take real steps to get better.
This resonates with me big time. My first hope-filled thought when I was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago was “this will be the end of my eating disorder”! I was convinced that I would finally be able to let all the ED BS go and take care of my body (and mind). Nope. In fact the opposite. Not being “in control” of my body made it all worse, and the surgeries and hormone-blocking meds wreaked havoc on my already fragile body image. Not to mention, the restrictions on exercise while I recovered from surgery made me acutely aware of how much I used my “love of running” to manage my weight and food intake. I’m almost 54, and it definitely feels like I’m sliding backwards instead of inching forward. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and being so honest and vulnerable.
I feel and see you Amelia. I was hospitalised at 14 with anorexia and still at 47 I’m not recovered. It is life long and I often lament the lost years of freedom and wonder when it will come but there’s that little ‘thing’ on my shoulder that I can’t quite shake. Maybe by 50…
I so appreciate your honesty and your writing.(Seriously you are such a good writer) It is true as we get older about giving less fucks. Other people really don't give nearly the fuck about all the things we judge ourself on and have for so long. What we weigh, our body, our clothes, our fucking job, our house , our bike, our car, our results...it's an endless list. But, the real freedom comes with all the work we do and WE have those moments of knowing that we can let go of all those things and our perceived judgement from others. I picture you running or walking in that glorious Hoar frost at sunrise in all the perfectness of you are, breathing that in and the gratitude that comes with it. I love who you are warts and all. One day at a time. What's your word, temporary -- Yes, I think of it everyday. Love and Peace.
Any of us who have fought any addiction can fully understand the exhaustion and frustration that come along...even if you no longer want them invited. One thing I have learned, we all have a burden we are carrying that we no longer wish to and yet...here we are. I wish us all so much love & light and I will continue to hold space for the grips of addiction to let go from our hearts and so we may find more and more pockets of peace. xoxo
I love the way you put this, thank you! 🩵
Likewise...you have a powerful effect with your words. And never forget "we are all just walking each other home". xoxo
I love this! all in in our many different soul suits but walking together home. Brilliant, thank you.
I turned 50 a couple of months ago and I realized I was harboring this thought in my head of "just get to 50 and you'll no longer have any fucks to give". That's what I've heard over and over. I realize I just turned but damnit, I did not wake up a different person. I still care a lot, I still can rattle off calorie counts and protein grams for most of what I eat, I still know the difference in calories between a small, medium and large banana and I still buy the smallest bananas at the store. It's such bullshit yet here I am. I tell myself these are just thoughts, let them go, and keep moving. And yet, I really just want them gone. It is so reassuring to read your work. Thank you.
Oh gosh how I do feel this deep in my soul. To maybe one day them being gone 🤞🩵
You could have written this for me! We’re clearly not alone even when we think we are!
I can relate to this. I was doing ok until perimenopause when my body just went haywire and I looked different from how I ever had, and nothing I did could change that. It is completely out of my control, and that is a very scary thing for someone who struggled with an ED. Personally, I think researchers need to look at how perimenopause affects those who've had an ED in the past because I think it brings in a whole different set of issues than for those who haven't. It's really hard.
Thank you for bringing this up and it’s such a good point - it seems rational to think that perimenopause can unearth a lot of dormant ED thoughts and behaviors and I wish there was more awareness around this!
As a 53 year old, I can attest to the fact that being done with this shit is something people with disordered eating patterns only dream about. Is it better? Yep. Is it completely gone? I, too, wish.
RecoverED, just like being a recovered alcoholic isn't' a thing.
We're all doing our best. Thank you, Amelia, for keeping this conversation real and out here. The more we all talk about it, the better hope we have for normalizing talking, finding help, and not being ashamed.
Thank you for letting me know I’m not alone in this! (Though I hate others know it as well…)
Thank you for sharing!!! It is so common for younger people in treatment to think they’ll be completely free when they’re older. And being in treatment at 40+ has been so hard!!! It felt like everyone there was saying they didn’t want to end up like me… Like you, I’ve found there are times of reprieve, but those thoughts still make their way to the surface at times, and it’s exhausting to constantly fight so hard!
oh gosh right?! Being the "cautionary tale" doesn't really help with anything. Best to you - I do believe we got this!
Your story about your aunt resonated with me. I watched a similar thing happen with my grandmother after she was in long-term care with Alzheimer’s. It is so difficult to fight your own mind.
It’s honestly heartbreaking (and a reminder to me that I don’t want dementia to be the thing that fixes my relationship with food 😞)
Amelia, thank you for continuing to share your story. I think a part of caring is simply being alive, and it's 100% natural. At the age of 37, I still look around the room and instantly feel "ugly" compared to other women, and I've been struggling with that my whole life regardless of how much I've worked on my own thoughts towards myself. So, I can relate to having a certain part of the mind that just won't turn off and can understand how hard it is. One thing that has helped me is knowing that physical appearance is just the outer shell and that what's inside the heart is what matters most! ❤️
Thank you for reading! Our brains are so hardwired sometimes with these thoughts, and I know how hard it can be to break 🩵
I entered treatment for anorexia when I was 30 and everyone preached the ideal of “complete recovery” but I could never wrap my brain around how that was possible. How do the thoughts ever turn off…. I’m 46 now and they don’t. Sometimes they’re quieter, sometimes you have better comebacks to shut them off, and sometimes they’re really loud still but you have to learn to not act upon them. I had hoped to reach that magical point where you don’t care anymore and am starting to think that will not happen. But for those of you who manage to get there, that’s fantastic. I am also jealous.
Same, same.
This is relatable in so many ways. I’ve written a lot about the ongoingness of eating disorder recovery, and we need more spaces like this to talk about it. I think of recovery as being an imperfect a work in progress rather than a final destination. Thank you for your work! 💗
thank you, and I 100% agree
Amelia, I completely agree with your definition of recovery. The thoughts and obsessions will probably never entirely disappear, but they do get quieter and quieter. If you work on them and more importantly if you work on the rest of your life.
I'm now 56, I have never been anorexic but an emotional (binge) eater and yo-yo dieter since my early teens. All your thougts about the aging aply just the same. For me the most important improvement is that now I respect my body and its functionality a lot more than I did when I was young. And it is from this point of view that I try to take proper care for it.
Wish you all the best!
I appreciate this Maja, and such a good point "more importantly if you work on the rest of your life." bingo
Thank you for another great message. These are good for all who have addictions. Stay tough.
I have spent 22 years struggling but the last 3 years have made more progress into recovery than I’ve ever made before. I’m starting to believe that recovered may be possible for me, or at least a very strong ongoing recovery. One of the main motivators to working this hard and challenging myself/gaining the weight/being so darn uncomfortable the last few years was watching my mom die of Alzheimer’s. Although she was never officially diagnosed with anorexia, she had an eating disorder/disordered eating my entire life. The first few years of dementia were awful, as the eating disorder seemed to take on new strength as she lost her ability to monitor what she said (she didn’t have a filter anymore). But eventually, as the dementia progressed, I saw her relaxed and enjoying food, for the first time in the 34 years I had been alive. Although we only got to see this for 6 months before she died, it was enough to push me to realize that I didn’t want to wait until 6 months before I die to recover.
sending you hugs and strength <3
I have an 18-year-old niece who is currently struggling with an eating disorder. She spent a month in treatment facility last fall and did everything she needed to do to get out as quickly as possible. Two months after her release, all her progress has been erased. Her weight is exactly where it was when she went into the treatment facility. Even with weekly doctor's visits and lab checks, her potassium levels continue to drop (at times, critically low). Her medical team has been very blunt with her, even telling her when she went into treatment the first time that she was "hours away from death." The most heartbreaking thing about it all: my niece doesn't think she has a problem. She still believes she is in complete control and can get better any time she wants. She believes that she is healthy enough to go to college this coming fall. She still thinks it is okay to eat one meal a day and go to the bathroom 20 minutes after she eats. I've watched family members plead with her to see what she is doing to herself, only to watch her lash out and cut those family members out of her life. I wish there was something I could do to help her. Reading your blog at least gives me hope that one day she will admit that she has a problem and take real steps to get better.
This resonates with me big time. My first hope-filled thought when I was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago was “this will be the end of my eating disorder”! I was convinced that I would finally be able to let all the ED BS go and take care of my body (and mind). Nope. In fact the opposite. Not being “in control” of my body made it all worse, and the surgeries and hormone-blocking meds wreaked havoc on my already fragile body image. Not to mention, the restrictions on exercise while I recovered from surgery made me acutely aware of how much I used my “love of running” to manage my weight and food intake. I’m almost 54, and it definitely feels like I’m sliding backwards instead of inching forward. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and being so honest and vulnerable.
I feel and see you Amelia. I was hospitalised at 14 with anorexia and still at 47 I’m not recovered. It is life long and I often lament the lost years of freedom and wonder when it will come but there’s that little ‘thing’ on my shoulder that I can’t quite shake. Maybe by 50…
I so appreciate your honesty and your writing.(Seriously you are such a good writer) It is true as we get older about giving less fucks. Other people really don't give nearly the fuck about all the things we judge ourself on and have for so long. What we weigh, our body, our clothes, our fucking job, our house , our bike, our car, our results...it's an endless list. But, the real freedom comes with all the work we do and WE have those moments of knowing that we can let go of all those things and our perceived judgement from others. I picture you running or walking in that glorious Hoar frost at sunrise in all the perfectness of you are, breathing that in and the gratitude that comes with it. I love who you are warts and all. One day at a time. What's your word, temporary -- Yes, I think of it everyday. Love and Peace.