Never

If someone had told me that in my lifetime, I would be living through a pandemic that would shut down my world, leaving me isolated from my family and friends, and make me concerned for my health and livelihood, I would have said. “no way I would survive that."

I know that isolation is not healthy for me. Staying connected with close friends was key for my emotional and physical well being this past year. (My Cohort, Mt. Hood, 2020)

But I, like so many of you, have survived it. And I have learned quite a bit about myself. One of the most important being that I do not need so much stuff. I have taken the past year to evaluate the people and things that serve and support me. I have developed clarity on what and who brings me happiness. I have emerged from 2020 with a cleaner house, a calmer mind, and a deeper connection with the people whom I love.

I have the rest go.

Perhaps the tumultuous part of 2018 with my family was not a global pandemic. If someone had told me that I would someday face a crisis where my family would shut down, where I would feel isolated emotionally from my husband and afraid to be around my child, I would have said, “no way could I survive that."

But not only did I survive, I also continued to recover. And I learned quite a bit about myself. The most important being that I no longer needed the habits I had held onto for so many years, believing they were vital to my survival. With steadfast support from my friends and my treatment team, I got through the most stressful time in my life without relying on anorexia for comfort. I was able to withstand the constant anger that swirled around in my house without resorting to extreme exercise to numb the pain. I did not allow the neverending knot in my stomach from the persistent tension to prevent me from fueling my body nor did I turn to food restriction to find control during a time in my life where I felt I had none.

It certainly helped to have amazing friends who, in my time of need, whisked me away to a desert paradise and supplied me with wine, carbs, and love. ( Phoenix, AZ 2018)

I am not quite sure how I did it and I am sure there were setbacks but nowhere in my my journals during that time can I find my thoughts around my body, exercise, or food intake. It was as if I went on auto pilot, knowing my family, especially my son, needed me—a mom with a rational brain and a strong body. He needed me to be his soft place to land in his world of sharp edges and dark corners. I had not provided that to him for many years, and I wanted more than ever to be there for him when he needed it most. I needed my family back more than I needed anorexia.

I came out of that dark year with a calmer household, a stronger mind, tighter pants, and the surprising realization that I didn’t need anorexia to survive. It no longer served a purpose.

It was time to let it go.

You And Me

I love you, AND I love me.

That was my thought as I sat on my front porch. My feet were propped up on a footstool, a glass of chilled chardonnay sweating on the table next to me. My secret oasis, hidden from view by blooming camellias, fragrant rose bushes, and shaded by a mature maple tree, giving me privacy while allowing me a perfect view of the happenings on the street down below. I picked up my glass and took a sip; the cool liquid flowed through my body, allowing my shoulder muscles to loosen and my thoughts to slow down as I began to find comfort in the lack of noise.

I had forgotten what silence sounded like.

I have traveled to many beautiful places in this world, but this is where I find my balance. (My front porch).

I had been in a war, fighting battle after battle. Constantly wary of where to step for fear one wrong move would cause an explosion.

Every day for the past year, had included some altercation with my son while each evening seemed to end with silent tension after arguments with my husband. But as I sat there in the quiet safety of my front porch, I realized the biggest fight I had waged was with myself.

For too long, I allowed myself to feel scared in my own home. The unpredictability of D's behavior made me feel, at times, like I was physically in danger. My husband's tendency to minimize D's behavior while suggesting my actions "caused" the outburst made me feel emotionally attacked and alone. Every day my body braced for another fight, my shoulders constantly tense, and my stomach clenched in wary anticipation. I knew I was living in an unhealthy situation. It was clear that D needed more help than I could provide for him. I understood that Marc was suffering too and that he and I were worlds apart on how to manage our family. I was living a life that was unsustainable for even the healthiest person, let alone someone trying desperately to recover from a life-threatening eating disorder.

This caught my attention during that dark year. I hung onto it as a reminder that, despite the consequences, I was doing my job.

"If you send him to treatment, he may resent you for a long time, "my therapist Kirsten said to me repeatedly when I expressed my desire to send D away for help.

"I don't think you need to go to that extreme yet," D's therapist said when I asked his opinion of treatment programs and begged for his help in finding one.

"I won't send him away," my husband said to me at the end of every one of our arguments, walking away to signal the discussion was over.

Yes, the discussion was over.

As I sat in the warmth and safety of my front porch, I felt immense sadness at the prospect that what I had just done might ruin my relationship with D, possible forever. I was scared that pushing my decision on Marc might cause me to lose my marriage. But most of all, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm reassurance that I had done the right thing for all of us.

Because I love them, AND I love me.

Life’s Terms

By: Dylan Baker

It is no secret that the transition from adolescence into adulthood is stressful. I’m not speaking of filling out college applications, or saying goodbye to your family as you head off to University. What I’m speaking of is the constant uncertainties that flood our minds with doubt and denial. What are my ventures after college? Am I going to meet the right partner and have a family? Will I even be able to support this family by securing a well paying job? For me, this is the true struggle of growing up because the coming of age can’t be slowed down. One must face it head on instead of living in fear of the unknown.

Unfortunately, several years back, my life was consumed by fear. To make matters worse, my coping skills were minimal and my stress was through the roof. All I knew was that I couldn’t handle all the intense emotions I was feeling and they needed to disappear. Yearning for a quick relief, the answer I turned to was drugs and alcohol and at first, it worked like a charm. I made absolutely sure I had constant access to my drug of choice or any kind of alcohol at my disposal to minimize the amount of stress and anxiety I was feeling. In my head, I thought emotions like fear and sadness were negative and that I should never have to feel them in my life if I wanted happiness. However, to my dismay, suppressing my emotions with drugs and alcohol made this problem worse. My family was worried sick about me and I’d never been so disconnected from them in my life. My needs always came first which meant that I was always out of the house trying to relieve my pain. It was a vicious cycle that I couldn’t put up with anymore. My search for happiness had come to a dead end and my all time low had finally been reached.

A second chance, for Dylan and for our family. (Evoke Wilderness Program, Bend, OR 2018)

Thankfully, I was given a second chance during the summer of my junior year of high school. I left home and was sent to venture to Bend, Oregon in order to take part in a wilderness recovery program that completely changed my life. I learned that using drugs and alcohol were only a symptom of my depression and fear in which I was swimming . Never in my life had I been in so much pain as I was during those three months living in the wilderness. With no suppressants to use, I was forced to come to terms with my future and I chose that summer to stop living in fear and face my life head on.

The most important lesson I learned, however, was that all emotions are valid. Anger, sadness, fear, joy, and everything in between are all valid. The misconception I had picked up prior to this was that there are negative emotions and positive ones. Furthermore, I should only live my life feeling positive emotions if I wanted a fulfilling life. However, it is impossible for one to live in prosper without experiencing the whole spectrum of emotions or else how is one supposed to compare feelings of happiness to sadness, or fear and excitement? In other words, I had to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. Only then was I able to accept life on it’s own terms.

It hasn’t always been easy but it has absolutely been worth it. (U of O, 2020)

Most importantly, however, is that I’m no longer vengeful of my parents. Instead, I look at what they did for me as an act of love and hope. Suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary. In actuality, it feels like quite the contrary as I am excited to see what the future has in store for me. Furthermore, the future should be a mystery, or else when would I feel wonder or curiosity. When I look back on myself a few years ago, I realize how much my perspective on life has changed and how it has made me who I am today.