Menu
Close
Rachel’s Recovery Story
“For anyone out there that is struggling with an eating disorder or any type of mental illness, please listen when I say that what you are dealing with is REAL and that it is okay to feel like you have lost control. “
In the summer of 2015, at the age of 16 years old, I weighed 68 pounds.
Sixty-eight pounds of pure skin and bone…and yet to me this felt normal, it felt right. My idea of “a normal body size”, “the standards I should uphold my caloric intake to” and “the goal to look like the celebrities plastered all over our social medias” was completely warped, yet I wanted it so badly. While I did not realize it at the time, I was about to start on a 4-year battle with an eating disorder.
My eating disorder manifested in the form of control.
One of my strongest qualities is that I am a very disciplined person, whether it be with school, employment or even relationships, I put as much effort as I can in, and always push myself.
While this has made me successful in many avenues, it also made me a very successful candidate for an eating disorder. I controlled every aspect of my life; I controlled exactly how much food went into my body, I controlled how many of those calories were burnt off through exercise, I controlled what I wore so that people would not see how thin I really was, and I tried to control the judgements from the public.
At the start, I was a really good controller. However, with time, I was no longer holding the steering wheel of my life, my eating disorder was. The control led to obsession to the point where I would become very upset with myself for having an “off day” or for “treating myself” to something I loved.
As time went on, I became increasingly submissive, turning away from opportunities that would once excite me, declining invites from friends simply because I didn’t want to have to make up another excuse as to why I wasn’t eating.
While I was surrounded with people in my life who loved me tremendously, and only wanted what was best for me, I felt incredibly alone. I felt as though no one truly understood what I was going through and why I couldn’t just eat more and feel better. To be quite frank, I didn’t understand it myself.
It would be easy for me to say that the first treatment I received, cured me, and I would love to tell you that, but the truth of the matter is, it took several years. While I was diagnosed with an eating disorder 2015, the diagnosis meant very little to me.
My parents and social circle were becoming increasingly worried about me and my health, but I failed to see the true consequences of what my eating disorder was doing to my body.
Over the next 2 years, I reluctantly agreed to see a family physician for “weight check ins”, a psychologist to talk about my struggles with food, and a therapist to talk about my declining mental health.
While these treatments were a step in the right direction, they changed very little. The truth of the matter is, I wasn’t ready to change myself. As much as I wanted to feel happy, I wanted to be able to enjoy my life, I wanted to be able to not care about the people talking about how sick I was, I wanted control.
It was not until I started university that this my priorities started to shift. Moving away to Ontario forced me to be independent (something that scared my parents a lot, because now I had all the control in the world), but it also taught me about what a life worth living is like. I wouldn’t say for me that my eating disorder left within a day by any means, but I started to notice that over time, I was making progress. Shopping started to become enjoyable because I was finally at a size where clothing in stores fit me.
Going out for dinner with my roommates became a means for me to connect and feel a sense of internal love that I had been lacking for a long time. But most of all, knowing that my parents and friends no longer worried constantly about me and my health, was the final push I needed.
While it is difficult to go back in time and think, “when did this happen to me?”, “was there a provoking factor?” and more importantly “why did this happen to me?” as I have tried to piece together in my head so many times, the only thing that matters is it did, it happened to me. I suffered a long journey with an eating disorder. A time in my life that no matter how much I try to forget about, no matter how much I wish I could have stopped it sooner, it will always be there. Immediately following my recovery, I denied surviving an eating disorder, and quite frankly I avoided the topic at all costs.
The idea of drawing more attention to myself than I already had done simply because of the shape of my body, led me to shut down for years. It wasn’t until COVID that I realized so many other beautiful people struggle with silent diseases.
Some of these individuals in worse spots than I ever was, and some just starting their struggle with mental illness. This inspired me to share my story but to continue to share my journey to whoever will listen, with the hopes of individuals knowing that they are never alone. While it is a cliché thing to say, I whole heartedly believe that strength is in numbers, and if one word helps one person, I know I have done my job.
For anyone out there that is struggling with an eating disorder or any type of mental illness, please listen when I say that what you are dealing with is REAL and that it is okay to feel like you have lost control.
You are the only person that can make the choice to take back the control of your life, and that might not be tomorrow, in a month, or even in a year.
Allow yourself to make mistakes, but learn from them, and most of all remember that you are not alone, and there’s always people rooting for you in the background, be your biggest cheerleader. You have come this far, and the end is near.
Eat the damn cake (eat your veggies too) but indulge in the life that you deserve to have.
Resources: