How "Recovered" Am I?

A few weeks ago, Dr. Joe gave me an article on eating disorders in which the writer (a psychologist specializing in the treatment of anorexia) pondered the question "what does 'recovery' really look like?". I was asked to read this article and reflect upon it for my next appointment, which I did primarily to uphold my title as Perfect Patient (that statement is dripping in sarcasm, as I gave up on perfection months ago). As usual, however, other minor catastrophes and chaotic happenings popped up in between appointments and therefore hijacked the therapy topic train. Needless to say, we have not yet had the opportunity to discuss the content of article or, more importantly, what "recovery" looks like for me.

I caught myself thinking about this today after the idea of purging crept into my head out of nowhere. I have been, for the most part, eating whatever seems right to me and actually trusting my body's hunger cues. As a result, I have settled into a very healthy weight and maintained it without restricting. I can honestly say it has been almost two months since I've engaged in any sort of anorexia-inspired behavior, so the intense "need" to throw up a bite-sized Snickers bar I had eaten caught me by surprise. The fact that purging popped into my head as an acceptable way to manage my insecurity over what I had eaten infuriated me...I thought I was over this?

Most people who have never struggled with intense distortion related to food cannot comprehend the emotional magnitude of these obsessive ED episodes. For me, my automatic impulse to control my food intake kicks in, and a "mistake" such as eating a miniscule Snickers bar has the potential to send me spiraling into another starve-purge cycle if I let my guard down even for a moment.

So I guess I am not over this, per se. Although I may never be. Like any addiction or negative pattern of behavior, the psychological aspect to the disease still exists even when the behaviors diminish. "Recovery" really means no longer acting on the distortions, coping despite them, and conciously stopping myself from skipping meals or throwing up the tiniest Snickers bar on the planet just because my brain is telling me to.

A relapse into starvation and rapid weight loss is always standing right behind me; I just have to conciously fight the constant urge to actually turn around and greet it when it calls my name.

And people wonder why I need to drink so much Starbucks. This whole recovery thing requires a lot of energy, people.

It's a waste of that energy to get mad at myself when an "eating disorder" thought pops into my head or when my brain tells me purge a miniature piece of candy. The fact that such thoughts suddenly appear in my head doesn't mean my recovery efforts aren't working; rather the fact that I am able to dismiss the thoughts without action serves as the true litmus test for the strength of my recovery.

I used to think (until recently) that recovery meant eliminating all aspects of an eating disorder: medical, psychological, behavioral. I somehow believed I would not become a success story until my life was completely rid all things "anorexia". But in reality, that day may never come. Hence, it is silly to measure success and recovery against such an unrealistic standard. It's really about fixing the medical damage, modifying the behavioral patterns...and simply managing the psychological component so I can avoid eroding the progress made in the other two areas.

Similar to the desire to purge the candy, I have had other distorted "thoughts" recently that did not morph into eating disordered "actions":

• I felt a strong urge to cut my food intake immediately after catching a glimpse of "fat" (in quotations because I am not entirely sure if it's there, I cannot actually tell, as we all know) on my body while trying on potential race outfits at Dick's Sporting Goods the other day.

• I found myself mentally calculating the number of calories burned while running 13.1 miles at an 8:30 pace in an effort to not "overeat" the night before the Pittsburgh Marathon last weekend (as if you could really "overeat" as an endurance athlete...ah, distortion at its finest).

• I considered not eating dinner last night after realizing I had eaten some candy and a cookie throughout the day, as well as a small dessert the day before.

In each situation, I found myself getting angry and disappointed in myself for thinking that way, as if the thoughts alone proved to me that I still have work to do or that I am somehow not making progress. I have even gone so far as to think, at times, that I should be pursuing additional treatment...something has to make these thoughts go away!

In reality, there probably isn't a strategy in the world that will cause these thoughts to go away. They stem from an eating disorder I will more than likely always "have"...like an alcoholic who will always want to drink, but has to work hard each day to fight against from the magnetic pull of the bottle.

So maybe the fact that I...

...did NOT cut my food intake in half after trying on running clothes at Dick's Sporting Goods...

...did NOT use the caloric expenditure of a 13.1 mile run as the basis for my pre-race dinner choice...

...did NOT skip dinner last night even though I wanted to...

And...

...did NOT purge the Snickers bar, even though my mind told me to...


...means I'm more "recovered" than I think I am.