There were a lot of things I was told were going to happen during recovery. Actually, that’s an outright lie. I wish there were a lot of things I was told were going to happen during recovery, but the truth is there was really just one thing I was told was going to happen during recovery and after recovery and that was that I would weigh more.
I remember one GP explaining it as “a fine layer going on over your whole body” and I really enjoyed that explanation. I used to imagine how nice that would feel in place of the bones I felt as I’d go to sleep at night.
I can quickly tell you that while in reality that explanation was a little bit true for the most part it was highly inaccurate. Most of the weight I gained did not evenly distribute itself as a fine layer but went to my hips, thighs and belly. It took years before any weight was redistributed and my stick thin arms and face caught up. Oh, and the layer wasn’t “fine” it was quite thick (as it needed to be). To the point where I went through an awkward phase of banging and bumping into things while I got used to the new perimeter of where my body ended and objects in the outside world began…
No one really warned me or even mentioned that on the other side of recovery I’d actually be quite a different person. Of course, it was implied and a given that I wouldn’t have the eating disorder but what that actually meant was never clear beyond “I’d eat more and be plumper.”
The reality was as I went through recovery and now in my recovered life it is even more poignant that I both gained many things beyond weight and interestingly lost a lot of things I wasn’t prepared for. Here’s where it gets interesting. Some of the things I gained and some of the things I lost were parts of me I actually valued, had no intention of changing, wasn’t aware that I wanted to change them or even knew that they could be changed.
To give you an idea of what I mean here’s an example of 3 things I thought were part of my personality or a part of who I was which went away with recovery.
- My Attention to Detail
The absolute, meticulous attention to detail I once had is gone.
I remember the day I learned leaves had stomata and became obsessed with learning about transpiration and capillary action which spilt over into carbon dating and gymnosperms, angiosperms and the structure of different fruits.
I used to spend my days meticulously committing to memory the Krebs Cycle, the electron transport chain and the number of ATP used or created at each step along the path (I can’t remember now).
I loved the transcription and translation of DNA into mRNA and proteins.
I loved algebra, I loved trigonometry, I loved derivatives.
I loved chemistry and physics and getting right down into the subatomic particles. I loved the story of Schrodinger’s cat and learning what colours the different elements emit as they burn.
I loved when the large hadron collider (LHC) was built.
I remember pouring over books about tardigrades and extremophiles.
If I was drawing a picture the most important thing would be the detail.
I picked up on and saw things no one else did.
I wanted to understand everything down to the most fundamental microlevel.
I don’t really mind now. I am able to step back and see the bigger picture and I have to admit that is very freeing. These things still fascinate me but I don’t spend all my hours studying them, needing to know everything.
Which is kind of sad but also a lot more useful to living life, let me assure you of that.
When I was so focused on the microdetails I wasn’t really able to plan ahead, I’d get very easily overwhelmed and I don’t think I could see the big picture in the way I can now.
Both are skills. Seeing the big picture and the details and both work well together but not all that well alone. Recovery gave me more of what can probably be seen as a useful mix of the two rather than a disproportionate importance on just the detail. I’m grateful for that even though when I was sick I can’t have known that it was a problem or something that was changeable. It was just the way I was, just the way my mind worked. Recovery taught me so much about the different possibilities, it taught me that nothing we think we are is set in stone. You have infinite potential to change.
2. My Superhuman Pain Threshold
Looking back now I can appreciate that the physical pain I went through when I was sick was immeasurable. The ways I harmed my body both on purpose and because I simply didn’t care or truly know better or feel able to behave better were vast, varied and super creative. Only I didn’t really see it (feel it) when I was in it.
The times I hurt myself when I was sick are so different to the times, I hurt myself now. When I used to injure myself I’d ignore it and this wasn’t even really on purpose to tell the truth but because I honestly think my pain threshold was a lot higher than it is now. There is no way I could do the things I once did without a second thought.
I’ve read some studies since recovery that actually give scientific validation to my theory that I’m so much more of a sook now in comparison to when I lived with anorexia as well as reasons why this happens for people living with an eating disorder including decreased peripheral blood flow and lack of familiarity with one’s own body1.
It’s kind of sad that I’ve lost that superpower of an elevated pain threshold but also entirely not sad at all because what’s even more sad was the reason I had decreased blood flow to my peripheries (starvation, my body not coping with the hell it was being put through) and the lack of familiarity with the body I lived in that I couldn’t even tell when it was in pain. That’s what’s truly sad. Furthermore, we feel pain for a reason. To stop us doing those painful things! Just because you don’t know how much something is hurting you does not mean it’s not hurting you.
3. My Ability to Endure
This is similar to the above pain factor but it’s the mental aspect. Not only was I able to push through any physical pain and just keep going I was also able to push through any mental pain and just keep going. Just keep existing. Just keep being “ok.”
The disconnection between my mind and body and my complete and utter disregard for myself meant that I was able to be anything and everything for other people.
When I was sick, I valued this ability to endure. It felt important to me at the time that I was this “kind” and “selfless” person. I was able to put up with and justify all sorts of maltreatment and abuse from partners and “friends”. I was able to just keep going and keep showing up for them. No. Matter. What.
What I now know is that by allowing people to disrespect and outright hurt me I wasn’t helping them or providing the safe, non-judgemental space where they could learn to trust and come to their own conclusions about right and wrong and ultimately heal themselves that I believed I was. I was actually inadvertently facilitating and condoning their actions. I was inadvertently telling them that it was ok to treat others this way.
That learning hit hard.
I no longer value pushing through, being strong and silent or mental endurance to be honest. I value listening to and respecting your mind and body. To me that’s true strength. That takes true courage and bravery, and I can admire and value that.
The Important Parts
The most important thing I want you to takeaway now after having read through this is that although I “lost” all these things (and many others) alongside the eating disorder it was every cliche’ of worth it!
These things I lost may have once been important and valuable to me but that was when I lived with an eating disorder and that’s no longer a way I wish to live. Which means if valuing those things and being good at those things entails for me that I also have to live that old way of life I don’t choose that.
Would you consider becoming aware of and open to the possibility that things which may be important to you now if you’re living with an eating disorder may not necessarily be your true values?…
Things you may think are just an inherent part of your nature or personality may not be!
That is mind blowing but I can tell you first hand both from my experience and the experience of many people I’ve worked with through their own recoveries that it is true.
Would you consider dropping the judgement and going with exploration and curiosity?
Would you consider being open to the journey of finding out? Even enjoying the journey?…
After all the whole purpose of doing recovery is to get to recovered and the whole definition of recovered is doing things differently to how you did them when you lived with the eating disorder is it not?
Which from this understanding of course you are going to lose some of the ways you once were and of course you are going to install in their place new ways of being.
The exchange is you get to experiencing life!
With my whole heart I hope you found this information useful and inspiring.
Become Great. Live Great.
Bonnie.
Reference
- Papezová H, Yamamotová A, Uher R. Elevated pain threshold in eating disorders: physiological and psychological factors. J Psychiatr Res. 2005 Jul;39(4):431-8.
