My Journey with an Eating Disorder: A Story of Struggle, Trust, and Hope
In 2016, I started receiving care for my eating disorder, though at the time, I didn’t fully understand what an eating disorder was, let alone how serious mine had become. I began seeing a therapist who would walk alongside me for the next four years, up until 2020, when I reached a breaking point and refused to go back to treatment. I was in so much pain, emotionally and mentally, that I couldn’t bear to continue.
However, shortly before that decision, I had started seeing my primary care doctor, who remains a key part of my support system to this day. She helped me understand the difference between the roles of medical providers, therapists, and dietitians. I learned that medical providers can monitor certain aspects of health that other providers cannot, offering a unique kind of support that is often overlooked in treatment. I didn’t feel great after that initial appointment, but something shifted—I left with a sense of trust, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I decided to follow her guidance, and she helped me find a new therapist and dietitian.
The years since then have been some of the hardest of my life. I’ve spent what feels like an endless amount of time in treatment, fighting battles I didn’t even know were possible. Yet, in the midst of it all, I’ve found moments of peace, moments where I was okay enough to give back. I even started working in the field, helping others who found themselves in the same dark places I had been in so many times before. Eventually, though, I needed to step away to work on myself some more.
Today, I have an incredible team, many of whom have never worked together, but they seem to have formed a seamless support system. My therapist, who stood by me years ago, is back walking by my side. My doctor from those earlier years is once again helping manage my care. My dietitian, who has been with me since 2020, is still working with me—now alongside my third therapist. And my primary care doctor, who has guided me through some of my darkest moments, remains an anchor in my recovery.
This past week, I couldn’t see anyone in person due to COVID, but when I finally saw my doctor today, she said something that almost brought me to tears: she’s proud of where I am right now. There is still work to be done, and I know I’m not 100%, but I’m in a better place than I’ve been in a long time.
The mental and emotional healing will take time, but for now, I’m doing what I need to do. I’m getting by, and in some ways, I’m thriving. Recovery, as I’ve come to learn, is anything but linear. The journey has been filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and moments where I’ve wondered if I’ll ever find solid ground. But through it all, I’ve had amazing support from friends, family, and my treatment team.
As alone as I feel sometimes, I know I’m not. There are people in my life who are just a phone call away, people who remind me why I need to keep going, even when I can’t see the reasons for myself. There are times when I let those around me hold onto hope for me, when it feels too heavy for me to carry.
Recovery is hard. It’s messy and unpredictable. But it’s also worth it, and I wouldn’t change anything about my journey or the people I’ve met along the way.
If you’re struggling, know that you don’t have to do it alone. It’s okay to let others hold hope for you when you can’t hold it for yourself. Keep going—there’s more ahead than you can see right now.
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This is just a part of my story, and as hard as it is to share, I hope it helps someone else feel a little less alone. Recovery is possible, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And sometimes, it’s the people walking with us who remind us of that.