3 Things Which Should Never Have Happened (but Did) During My Recovery

A couple of weeks ago I went to an “eating disorder symposium” held at the local hospital where people from multiple and diverse disciplines and experiences ranging from doctors to dietitians, to psychologists, to nurses, to partners and parents of people living with eating disorders to the people still suffering themselves and to say there was some amazing speakers sharing amazing research and diverse and valuable perspective would be an understatement.

It was incredible.

For me there were so many takeaways from the day and so much reinforcement that the work I do is incredibly necessary but also that I want to be doing more than I am to not only free people who are suffering but to prevent many from ever falling sick in the first place!

After a day filled with facts, figures, policy and science it took until I was driving home for the emotion to hit.

The memories really flooded in.

And along with them the pain and the pure frustration at all that was and all that should never have been.

What brought it all up for me more than anything else was one of the final components of the program in which the audience members were invited to ask questions of a panel of interdisciplinary authorities in the field of eating disorders. Two mums of people with eating disorders opened up and shared their hurt about being overlooked or completely ignored by the medical professionals involved in the treatment of their children. In response one of the panel members took the difficult role of attempting to console them.

I wish she didn’t.

I wish she’d stayed silent.

Not because her words were unkind or intentionally uncaring (they weren’t they were very lovely and supportive) but simply because for the pain these mothers were sharing there was nothing anyone could say to make that ok.

The reality of the utterly all-consuming and unrelenting torment of living with an eating disorder or caring for someone you love with an eating disorder and navigating a medical system that treats you as though you are to blame is something you cannot know unless you’ve been there.

For that experience there is no comfort or reassurance to be had not in words or any other actions.

I wish she’d given recognition that she didn’t know.

Most of all I wish she’d said she couldn’t have imagined what it was like for them and remained silent.

Sometimes when you don’t understand and even when you think you do but you’ve never actually been there yourself the best thing to say is nothing at all because this is our chance to respect and learn from those who have.

“Our greatest obstacle to learning is not ignorance. It is the illusion of knowledge”.

~ Daniel Boorstin.

There are terrible things which happened during my illness at the hands of the “professionals” who I trusted and who were supposed to be helping me or at the very least keeping me safe for which I have no words.

I have a choice to speak them or remain silent and today I choose to share because my loyalties lie firmly with those still struggling.

I recognise that healing and change will not come through silence.

If you are in recovery I want you to know that you can heal despite the things which should never have happened happening.

So, here’s my small share of three of the everyday occurrences that broke my heart and spirit during my years in hell. Not to be taken as blame for the people who didn’t know any better but purely to let you know you deserve and can choose better.

To let you know that your treatment is your choice because your treatment is for you.

Find the right people for you or your loved one; please.

1. The nurse saying to me “you’re a beautiful young woman but there’s just one problem I see with you, you’re too thin” as he wrapped his fingers around my non-existent bicep to prove a point that didn’t need proving.

The thought of his fingers on my skin still makes me feel sick and disgusted only now it is with him rather than directed towards myself as it was then.

2. Losing weight on any hospital meal plan I was ever prescribed, being refused more food when I said I needed more and then being blamed for losing weight and accused that I must be “doing something”.

I wasn’t doing anything any more sinister or “sneaky” than trying my hardest to recover, trying to please, trying to do it right and be good.

3. My mum recently shared with me that she’d been told by a number of psychologists to punish me when I couldn’t eat.

To which she logically and incredulously replied “What, punish her for getting sick?”

Would you give a mother of a young teenager diagnosed with cancer the advice to punish her daughter for being sick and believe that somehow this would make the cancer go away?...

We may not know everything there is to know about eating disorders, but we know enough to know that they are not a choice.

We know enough to know that as with any other illness shame, guilt, blame and punishment do not heal.

I eventually recovered 15 years later than I should have because the reality is my falling sick was unforeseeable, but my staying sick was unnecessary.

I honestly believe if everyone had access to the treatment I had in the end recovery is not just a possibility but inevitable.

It is time to choose those people on your recovery team who respect you and empower you to become wholly and completely you.

You have the chance now to begin to prove to all those who don’t see you that you that you are more than this illness.

That you can do it.

You have before you now the opportunity of a lifetime.

You have before you now the opportunity to create you.

You have before you now the opportunity to live an authentic life.

Please, please, please do not let the abuse of others including health care workers be it intended or through ignorance stuff that up for you.

You are a meaningful part of this universe and you deserve freedom.

You also deserve to be treated with respect; always.

With All My Heart I Hope You Found This Information Useful & Inspiring.

Become Great. Live Great.

Bonnie.