Just talked to a mom who is afraid her daughter doesnt believe she can recover. Also talked to a friend today who is afraid she cant ever overcome all the years she has suffered. Talking with them, prompted me to share something that has been on my heart since last week: As we stood together in front of the Capitol last week, I couldnt help but realize that, as I gazed down in the direction of the Washington Monument, the spot where I had planned to take my life on June 13, 2002 was less than 300 feet from the MOM Mothers & Others March. Thanks to the Eating Disorders Coalition hosting a Congressional briefing on June 13th, where Kitty Westin shared Annas story and Ron and Sally Crist George came to hear the briefing, I was compelled to stay alive rather than end the pain and misery that made up my life because of suffering an eating disorder. Though it was 12 years ago now, I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. Distinctly, I remember hugging Mr. George and looking into his tear-stained face as he told me, You need help or youre going to die. In that very moment I made a promise to him and to myself, I have no idea how, but I am going to do everything I can to fully recover and I am going to do everything I can to not let this disease kill me. Because of Kitty, Ron and Sallys willingness to share the pain of losing their daughters to an eating disorder, my deprived-brain realized that if I continued to allow the disease to suffer me and if I didnt get 100% serious about truly healing, I would be flying in the face of their broken hearts...and that was something I just couldnt do. Their broken hearts trumped all the doubts that came with thinking about trying recovery one more time; their broken hearts trumped how much I hated my life, had no self-esteem and did not want to gain weight; their broken hearts trumped ANY hard moment that I would ever face in what became my final recovery process --because no matter how hard what I would experience in my final recovery-process, nothing came close to burying a daughter. So...on June 13, 2002, instead of taking my own life that afternoon, Jim Knapp took my picture at the National Botanical Garden and then we had our picture taken in front of the Capitol Reflecting Pool...just steps from where we all came together last week. My final recovery process was hard. Indeed, on most days, it sucked. On most days, for the first six months, it was emotionally and physically draining, painful, crazy-making, lonely and Sisyphean. Prior to my final recovery process, I had tried recovering several several several times over the course of the time that I was sick, and every time I ended up back in the disorder, consumed with disgust about my body and my looks, turning to eating disorder behaviors because my brain and body werent strong enough to overcome the f****d up wiring that the mal-nourishment and purging had created. But during my final recovery process, everything changed: the hard days, the awful moments, the gastroparesis, the AWFUL anxiety of not allowing myself to purge, the crazy emotions, the crying, crying, screaming, hating, yelling, sadness, etc...none of those things trumped what Kitty and the Georges shared with me when they told me about the loss of their daughters. I stuck to my commitment to fully heal because of them --at first. I did it for them at first because I disliked myself so much and couldnt find one single thing about myself that was worth living for. I stuck to my commitment to fully heal because of Gretz, the Super Setter --at first. I did it for him because he needed a mom and I couldnt bear the thought of him losing the person who promised him youll never ever be hurt again on the day when he came to live with us. And I did it for Jim --at first. I did it for him because he was the only person who never left my side even when I wanted to leave my side. And then...about six months into my final-recovery process, I began to recover for me. Because my brain was finally getting re-nourished and healing all the messed up wiring that the disease created, after about six months of recovery I was finally able to see what Id seen all the years prior to having an eating disorder: that I am a human being created for a purpose; that I am beautiful because I am alive; that I, Kathleen, am worthy of living and celebrating the joys of this life; that I am no exception to happiness simply because I had a disease; that I am not a failure because I once had a disease; that I have a lot to live for; that fully recovered is possible and hope exists. And then...I went on to fully heal. For that miracle, I have been daily grateful, even on days when life isnt easy all sunshine, rainbows and unicorns. Had I taken my life as a result of the eating disorder, I never would have met my cutest nephew ever; I never would have been able to help rescue people after a bear attack (its a long story...); I never would have become mom to Gretz, Roo, Blackjack, Maggie, Stormy, the Littles, FuzzleWuzzleSuggleHuggle, Shadow, Moolie, Arthur, Girlcat, Miles and Mason; I never would have run for the glory of running and high-fiving trees (right, Emily Morris!); I never would have healed my relationship with my family; I never would have reconnected with the Georges and met the JMU Tri Sigmas; ...and I never would have met any of you. YOU matter. YOU CAN recover. Life holds infinite blessings, possibilities, joy, and ordinary moments that you DESERVE to experience. Never give up. Suicide is not an option. YOU CAN be free of the disease. And YOU deserve all the best that life and love have to offer. I hope this helps if you needed a little help tonight.
Posted on: Thu, 09 Oct 2014 21:46:57 +0000