Dam Worth It

It’s been a while since I last sat down to blog. I’d like to credit it to not having the time, which I could probably do. This term has by far been my busiest yet, with taking 19 credits, being a manager of the gymnastics team, which includes being at all practices and meets (including travel ones), having a boyfriend, spending time with my other friends, working out, and staying committed to my faith. In all honesty though, this blog just hasn’t been a priority for me recently. And while I was feeling a decent amount of guilt about that for a period of time, I’ve reconciled it. For a good chunk of my life (six years), my eating disorder, as well as battle with anxiety and depression, were the center of my world. My life revolved around appointments, group therapy meetings, daily vital sign testings and weekly blood draws, meal planning, etc. Everything I did was determined by what would best help my recovery. I commuted to Corvallis from Portland and back (170 miles roundtrip) for about a year because I needed the support of living with my mom but wanted to keep the consistency and normalcy of staying in school and seeing my college friends as much as possible. That life became my normal.

I don’t know how to explain the shift that happened in me over the last six months, but boy, has a shift taken place. For six years, I “trusted the process.” I went through the motions that all of the professionals in my life told me to, without seeing any real progress. I mean sure, I saw some physical signs. I gained weight, my heart rate and blood pressure stabilized, and my digestive system sorted itself out to the point where I could eat food without experiencing severe pain. My mentality, though was still the same. I felt like an anorexic living in a normal-sized person’s body. Which, to be honest, felt even worse. I felt like a fraud! Finally, though, after six years (SIX YEARS!), I can say that that’s no longer the case. My mind has finally caught up to my body, it’s caught up to my actions. My thoughts are finally those of someone who has a healthy relationship with food, a healthy relationship with exercise.

Is my life perfect right now? Ha! Not at all. My face is breaking out the worst it ever has (due to my body STILL trying to figure out an equilibrium with it’s newfound hormones, a result of finally having an adequate amount of body fat after suppressing it for so many years), my hands are still causing me problems (yes, the ones that I’ve had three surgeries on in the last sixteen months), my grades are not nearly where I’d like them to be, and I got my first speeding ticket last night. Yet despite all those things, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. I’ve never felt so comfortable in my own skin, even in the moments when I’m uncomfortable. My mom actually had to remind me the other day to schedule an appointment with my dietician because it’s almost been a month since I’ve seen her and been weighed in. I don’t think I’ve gone a month without having my weight taken since I was fifteen. It just so is not at the forefront of my mind right now; there are so many things that are so much more important to me at this time. Eating healthily and exercising are still a big part of my life, but that’s because of the way that they make me feel and the joy and confidence they bring me, not because of a number they’ll bring my body down to or a specific way they’ll make my body look. I’m not rigid about going to the gym or getting a certain number of steps in each day, rather, I workout when I’m able to make time for it (which ends up being about five days a week, give or take), and stay as active as I can aside from that. I’m not trying to hit a specific number of calories, macros, or exchanges; I eat what I’m hungry for when I’m hungry for it, and stop when I’m full. Some days that means I’m eating quite a bit more than I normally do, and sometimes I eat a little bit less. If I have a drink, I don’t deprive myself of that many calories-worth of food, I just acknowledge that it’s a treat, and not something I do every day, and that my body knows what to do with it. I’m not going to gain any real weight by having a beer every once in a while.

I’m cognizant of what I’m putting in my body, but I’m not obsessed with it. I truthfully didn’t think I’d ever get to this point. It’s for that reason that I’m writing this post tonight, that I decided to make it a priority. At our gymnastics meet today, we honored a mental health campaign that’s being spearheaded by two Oregon State student athletes (one of which is a former gymnast), called Dam Worth It. It’s centered around recognizing the epidemic of mental health issues in student athletes, but it really can be applied to everyone. The message is that whoever you are, wherever you are, and whatever you’re doing: You aren’t alone.

So while I’m proud, and happy, and so, so thankful, that being enthroned in the grips of mental illness isn’t my life any more… I recognize that for a long time, it was. And I want anyone, and everyone, who’s experiencing any sort of it right now: Whether you’re struggling for the first time ever, or have been for twenty years, there is hope. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I didn’t believe it, but praise Jesus, I continued to hope and walk in that direction, and I’m finally there. It can happen for you, too.

YOU are Dam Worth It.



A Day to Celebrate

Anniversaries are a funny thing.

Depending on what they are in remembrance of, they can bring up all sorts of different feelings. Sometimes, the same anniversary can elicit two different reactions, depending on the year, or your state of mind.

Six years ago, on this day, I was hospitalized for anorexia.

I am so happy, proud, and encouraged, that today, I am celebrating.

I’m celebrating where I am now, in contrast to where I’ve been. In years past, this hasn’t been a happy anniversary. It’s been a reminder of the battle being fought; a reminder of how much effort was being required every. single. day.

Not this year, though.

I had another weigh-in yesterday. My weight has continued to hold steady at my ultimate goal/restored weight. My mental state is the best that I think it’s ever been. I’ve graduated to only having to drive to Portland to see my therapist once a month, and psychiatrist once every two. My mom is gaining back her trust in me. I was able to go spend a weekend in Bend with one of my best friends (and roommate from last year, Claire) this past weekend, and had almost no reservations about it. I didn’t bring any of my own food, and I didn’t ask her in advance what we’d be eating. I haven’t felt this free in six years.

So today, we celebrate. I celebrate, my family and friends celebrate, my team celebrates. Most importantly, we praise and thank Jesus for the work that He has done, and that He continues to do in me.

In Him,


The Writing on my Arm

If I had a penny for every time someone asked me about my tattoo, I’d be a rich lady! And for the sake of this college girl’s wallet, I WISH that were the case! Nevertheless, I get asked about my tattoo a lot. I love that. It’s part of the reason I decided to get it in such a visible place, because I knew it would be a great conversation starter. It definitely has been. I’ve been asked about it by strangers on the MAX, professors in a college class, baristas at Starbucks, sorority girls during RUSH…the list goes on, and on, and on.

I get asked about it so frequently, that I feel like I should have a pretty good handle on how I like to explain it by now. For whatever reason though, I don’t. It’s because of that, that I decided to write this blog post today. I want to finally express what the writing on my arm means to me.

I’ve never been much of a tattoo person. I’ve said from the beginning that this tattoo on my arm is the only one I’ll ever have, and I maintain that to this day…despite all the warnings from other “tattooies” that assured me I would get hooked after one. Not the case! I don’t care for the look of tattoos, and I’ve never really appreciated them as art. In my opinion, if I want a beautiful piece of art, I’ll get it printed on a canvas and hung in my living room, not on my body. Clearly though, I have a tattoo. So why the exception? Why is Ecclesiastes 7:5 written in permanent tattoo ink on my arm?

As with all bible verses, there are multiple translations of Ecclesiastes 7:5, but my favorite is the New Living Translation. It says,

“It is better to be criticized by a wise person than to be praised by a fool.”

There are a lot of ways to interpret all bible verses, but the way I take this one, is that my eating disorder is the fool. For years (six now), it’s tried to convince me to trust it. It’s made my family, my friends, and medical professionals, out to be liars, when in actuality, they were just loving, concerned people…and rightly so. They were telling me truth, it just wasn’t the truth that my E.D. wanted me to hear. It turned me into a liar, believing that pleasing it was the only important thing in my life, putting to the side my relationships with all others, including with God.

This verse was shown to me at a time when I needed it most; the first time I ever went through treatment. I was fifteen years old. I was vulnerable, scared, and running on pretty close to empty. The eight months of treatment I entered into, was the hardest thing I’d ever gone through in my fifteen years of life (and I’d gone through some tough stuff). I knew that I had to fully surrender myself to Jesus if I was going to come out on the other side of this disease, if I was going to beat anorexia. It was then that this verse sort-of became my life mantra. It still is, and I’m reminded of it every time I look down at my arm. It reminds me in my eating disorder, but also in all other areas of life, that I am not the end all, be all. I do not know everything. And sometimes, what’s inside my own head is the fool. It’s up to me to take a step back, and decide who I’m going to listen to. Will I choose to listen to the voice inside my own head, the fool? Or will I choose to listen to the other voice, the voice of wise counsel, both of Jesus, and of those who He has placed in my life to guide me?

So, that is what Ecclesiastes 7:5 means to me. I guess it wasn’t that hard to explain after all!

In all other news, my recovery is going great. I had a fun week of celebrating my twenty-first birthday with friends, which included multiple instances of going out to eat. And guess what the crazy part is? I actually wanted to. Celebrating, even by way of food, sounded fun to me. I truthfully cannot remember the last time that was the case. My weight has continued to hold in the middle of my healthy weight range, and both my treatment team and I are very proud of that.

I think it’s going to be a great year.

In Him,


Moving Forward

Hello there!

It’s been a while! And I am happy to say that this is 100% a good thing. My life has been busy this summer, but I am so happy. With the exception of doctor appointments (and even those are beginning to dwindle a bit), my life has consisted of “normal” 20 year old busyness, and I am so, so thankful for that.

It dawned on me this morning (while I was coaching at swim practice, and had a fresh blackberry that one of the lifeguards offered me) just how far I’ve come in the last few months. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but MAN, I almost started crying as I thought about it! I didn’t even give a second thought to having an extra bite of fruit, after having already had breakfast, and me refusing to eat a fresh blackberry (Yes, just ONE!) from the bushes while my mom and I went for a walk is something we argued about frequently just six months ago.

Because of that realization, I decided to pop on here and make a list of recent happenings that I am proud of. Here goes.

  1. Timing: The time at which I eat my meals and snacks has become so much more flexible. I used to eat breakfast at 8:30, morning snack at 11, lunch at 1, afternoon snack at 4, dinner at 7, and evening snack at 9. On. The. Dot. As you can probably imagine, being this rigid around meal and snack times can be a challenge for, well, life. I would turn down social situations so that I could make sure I was home to eat my food. And no, eating out with a friend wasn’t an option (see #2 and #4), so that meant I couldn’t do anything with anyone for about half of my day. Talk about a challenge!
  2. Variation in Food Choices: The list of foods that I’m comfortable eating has grown, a lot. I used to rotate between 2 or 3 meal plans, and would eat those same meals and snacks every day. Yes, every day, and no, I did not get tired of them (Which is weird, I know. Welcome to living with an eating disorder!). I’ve begun experimenting in the kitchen more, which for the most part, I am actually enjoying. I’ve discovered that I really like sautéed kale, and have been using that in a lot of bowls and salads as opposed to my usual romaine lettuce base. I’m really proud of myself for this, because I continued to use it even after realizing that kale contains quite a bit more calories than romaine. I also know, however, that it has more nutrients, which is something that wouldn’t have mattered to me a few months ago (more calories = not going to eat it, regardless of the nutritional value), but now, I am able to appreciate.
  3. Dating: I’ve gone on a few dates. Like actual, real dates where we got food, not just “grabbing coffee.” I was telling my mom, you don’t realize how much you’re limiting yourself by only allowing social interactions to occur around coffee (which was my life for the last few years), until you start expanding that and being okay with going to get a meal, or ice cream, or whatever. It sure is a lot more fun, and opens up WAY more doors. Who knows if anything will come of these dates, but regardless, they have been fun opportunities for me to have to step outside of my normal routine, and get to know new people.
  4. Eating Out: Kind of going off that last one, going out to eat doesn’t scare me anymore. I can remember a time (not long ago!) when I couldn’t imagine myself ever being able to go out to a restaurant and order something off the menu. Ever. I really thought that wouldn’t happen for me. I’m proud to say that that is not the case anymore! While some restaurants may be more of a challenge than others, I’m pretty confident that I can find SOMETHING that I am comfortable eating on any menu. As a matter of fact, my mom and I are even planning a little staycation before I go back to school, and included in those plans are a few restaurants around Portland that I want to try. Yes, you read that right! That I. WANT. TO. TRY. Wooot!
  5. Fluctuations: I’m way more okay with fluctuations. This is a big one as well. A couple of times at weigh-ins, my weight’s been up a little, and other times, it’s been down a little, which is completely normal, but to me a few months ago, would’ve been terrifying. I haven’t allowed those minor differences in my weight to determine what I ate that day or the following one, and I’ve continued to adhere to my meal plan, per my doctor’s orders. I trust that my body knows where it wants to be, and frankly, I’m really not scared of what would happen if I ended up gaining another pound or two. To be honest, I feel like I’ve already had to gain so much weight, that one or two pounds just doesn’t seem like the end of the world. I’m practically pinching myself as I’m writing this, because I can remember the way it made me feel, like my skin was crawling, when just a couple of months ago, my doctor asked how I would feel if I ended up having to gain another pound or two. I’m seeing huge progress here. Huge. Progress.
  6. Body Dysmorphia: I have a more accurate view of my body. I don’t see myself as “fat”, which, even though I’ve always known that medically I wasn’t, my own view of myself was so skewed that even a few months ago, I would’ve bet you money that I was. I am gaining muscle through weight-lifting, which I’m proud of, but I also think that I’m just getting more comfortable in my own skin. My treatment team has been telling me FOREVER that this would happen (medically speaking, distorted body image is a side-effect of being even just a pound or two underweight), and I’m elated that it finally has. I still have days where I don’t love my body, but who doesn’t? I’m trying to focus more on the things that it CAN do than the things that it isn’t.
  7. Exercise: I’m less rigid in my exercise. This is a huge one for me. I love working out, and I always have. The euphoric feeling people often refer to as a “runner’s high,” I seem to get whenever I get my heart rate up. And to be honest, I think I’ve always been that way, but for a good chunk of my recent life, my eating disorder stole that from me. I worked out because I had to, because I was scared of what my body would do if I didn’t burn X number of calories on the elliptical for even one day, because I didn’t trust my body to take the food that I was giving it and use it to nourish itself, etc. The list could go on, and on, and on. Recently, since having been cleared to add cardiovascular exercise back into my life after an 18-month hiatus, I’ve been able to enjoy things like lap swimming, hiking, circuits with weights, and power yoga. I have some other bodily issues (which have been very frustrating) that are making running not an option for me right now, and I’m staying away from doing cardio machines for the foreseeable future, but these other fun ways of exercise have helped me to realize that I DO love working out, and not just for the sake of burning calories. I’m so incredibly proud of myself for taking the long break from cardio that I did, because now, I’m not scared of what will happen to my body if I take a few days off from working out. I used to be held captive by the monitor that would read how many calories I’ve burned, and now I’m getting to redefine my relationship with exercise in a completely new and healthy way. And, most importantly, I’m having fun while I’m doing it!

Whew! That was quite a list! There are more things, but those are the major ones, and all that I’m going to take the time for. Did I mention it’s been a busy summer?

In all honesty, the hardest part of recovery right now, is that I’m still not “recovered,” even though for the most part, I feel like I am. Both my mom and my treatment team are still very wary of me slipping backwards, and that has been frustrating for me. I would like for my doctors and therapy appointments to be reduced to once every few weeks or so, but no one else is on board with that just yet.

I have to continually remind myself that they are this way because of how many times I’ve relapsed. And I understand it…but still, it can be hard. I get mad when my mom isn’t giving my praise or compliments (full disclaimer…my mom gives me A LOT of praise and compliments…but she gives me constructive criticism, too!), or when she asks me to send her a meal plan for the umpteenth day in a row, but usually, once I take a step back and take a deep breath, I can identify where she’s coming from, and then I’m okay.

Well, I think that’s it! As always, if you’re reading this, thank you so much for following along on my recovery journey. It’s never been easy, but it’s always been worth it.

In Him,


Netflix’s New Movie: To The Bone

Netflix recently released the trailer for a new movie that will be available to stream this July. It’s called To The Bone, and it’s about a girl with anorexia nervosa. Since being released, the trailer has begun appearing more and more frequently on my Facebook newsfeed. Each time it’s popped up, I’ve told myself to ignore it. I’ve tried to shove it out of my head and keep it out of my mind… But that’s gotten harder to do the more people hear about it, and subsequently, repost, retweet, hashtag, and comment on it. I know that as time goes on, and especially once it’s available to stream, it’s going to come up even more frequently, and people will be talking about it. Just like they did with 13 Reasons Why.

I know there are a lot of different opinions about the show 13 Reasons Why, and I’m sure there are going to be a lot about To The Bone as well. I’m not going to try to convince you of which “side” you should be on, of whether it’s helpful and raising awareness, or triggering and should be taken off the internet. I’m just going to share my perspective as someone who has spent a good portion of her life struggling the disorder being dramatized as Netflix’s newest movie.

Last night, after having scrolled past the To The Bone trailer probably 50 times, I gave in. I watched the trailer. And I so wish I could undo it. The first snippet from the film shows the main character, played by actress Lily Collins, calorie counting, compulsively exercising, and weighing herself. Classic eating disorder behaviors. Behaviors I know all too well, and that I really, really didn’t need to watch play out in front of me.

I didn’t watch the entire trailer, and I know that I can’t fairly judge the movie unless I do so. I won’t, and I don’t need to. I don’t care to judge the entire movie, I just want to talk about the things I do know from the parts I did see.

My initial thoughts after watching it were, “No.” No no no no no no no. No, I did not want this to be a movie. No, I did not want this to be on Netflix, accessible to me or anyone else  whose struggled with the life-threatening mental illness. No, I didn’t want it to be “glamorized” for younger viewers, or for anyone, really, who could watch it and get ideas on “how to become anorexic.”

I can’t remember if I’ve talked about this on here before, but something I find myself struggling with a lot in my recovery, is possessiveness of my eating disorder. A big (big, big, BIG) part of my eating disorder was a type of “frozen dessert” called Arctic Zero. My mom now jokes about it, saying “Yeah, ZERO flavor!.” It’s a diet ice cream (if you can even call it “cream,” since there’s none in it!) that’s very low in calorie and even lower in flavor. But for me, during my disorder, it was a god-send. It got me through days when I hadn’t allowed myself to eat anything else, because I could eat that entire pint of ice cream, for only 150 calories. It’s still very triggering to me, to this day.

There’s a competing brand of ice cream called Halo Top. It’s been around for a while, but has become trendy in the recent year. It’s also triggering for me, for the same reason: it’s a diet ice cream, and it takes me back to that dark time of my disorder. Ironically, I never allowed myself to eat Halo Top because it was a whopping 240 calories for the whole pint. That’s less than a single one of my three snacks now, not to mention the additional three meals I eat each day! I’ve very intentionally stayed away from both Arctic Zero and Halo Top since being in recovery. I won’t even walk past them in the grocery store; they just bring up too many bad memories. With Halo Top becoming more popular in the recent year, however, it’s become harder to stay away from. I can still remember the first time I opened the freezer at my house in Corvallis and saw a pint of Halo Top, staring back at me. One of my roommates had bought it. She didn’t know what it meant to me; how would she? Nevertheless, I called my mom crying, overcome with emotions of sadness, frustration, and jealousy.

Jealousy? You may be wondering if that’s really what I meant. I can assure you, it is. It might sound silly, but it’s true. My mom’s compared my feelings around Arctic Zero and Halo Top to that of a jealous ex-girlfriend. That’s my special food. It was my saving grace. How dare you try to steal that from me? I can’t have it anymore, and now you get to?! (Trust me, I realize how dumb this sounds!).

Anyway, back to last night. I watched the first part of the trailer, and immediately felt like a knife was being twisted through my small intestines. That jealous feeling was back. wanted to be Lily Collins. wanted to tell this story. wanted to be able to tell it my way, and I wanted it to be done right.

My feelings during and after watching the trailer took me back to a time when I made the mistake of reading an excerpt from a book my mom was reading, when I was in treatment the first time (at age 15). The book is called “Brave Girl Eating,” and it’s excellently written. The author, Harriet Brown, wrote it about her experience going through anorexia recovery with her daughter. While it contains incredibly detailed content that is undoubtedly potentially triggering, it was written with the intent of being a resource for parents of children with eating disorders, or really, I guess, for anyone wanting more insight into what someone recovering from anorexia nervosa is experiencing. For me, however, reading the few pages I did sent me into a tailspin. That might’ve been my first panic attack ever, I’m not sure, but I vividly remember lying on the stairs, where I’d found the book, hands over my ears, eyes closed, bawling. All of the memories I’d been trying so hard to keep out of my head came flooding back, it was like I was reliving the darkest of my eating disorder days.

But you know what? That doesn’t mean the book shouldn’t have been published. It doesn’t mean it’s not a great book, and an incredible resource.

It simply means that I’m not the audience.

I think that this show, if done well, has the ability to be a great resource. I think it could inform people, and hopefully steer them away from playing around with the number one cause of death by mental illness. I won’t be watching it, and that’s okay. I don’t need to. I’ve lived it.

Something I’m learning more and more as I go through recovery, is that just because something is not good for me, doesn’t mean it’s not good.

I’m part of a fairly strong E.D. recovery community on Instagram. There’s been a lot of talk about this show in the recent week, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one with this viewpoint. I’ll have to thank my conversation with my mom for that one. I’ve seen people write, “How dare they put out content that’s so triggering?” and “What kind of twisted person could stand to watch a show like that?” and so on and so forth.

The word, “triggering,” is thrown around a lot nowadays. I realized, when thinking further about this matter, that I was being quite hypocritical. I hate when people are overly-concerned with triggering others. I don’t want to sound too harsh here and say a blanket statement that I think everyone should just “grow a thicker skin,” but as a rule of thumb, that is more along the lines of my opinion. How can I say that, though, if I don’t believe that when it’s actually something that applies to me?

I realized, today, that if I say this show shouldn’t be allowed to air, I’m being that person that I get so frustrated with. I’m being the one who needs to be protected, who’s saying, “You can’t do that, because it affects me.” I don’t want to be that person. I’m working on realizing that my issue shouldn’t become everyone else’s issue, and that’s hard. It would be a lot easier if the entire world was a safe place where nothing anyone did ever adversely affected anyone else. Unfortunately, that’s not reality, and that is something that I will continue to work through.

On another note, my blog was chosen this week as one of the Top 100 eating disorder blogs on the internet, and I was given a cool badge to display on my page 🙂 So, if you’re wondering what caused the change in my site’s appearance, that’s it! The old layout didn’t have a spot where I could display the badge, so I decided to change it up a bit.




Until it’s Gone

There’s a well known quote, “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” I’ve always heard that quote in a negative context, as in: you don’t realize how much you’ll miss something until you don’t have it anymore. I’m beginning to see it in a way I never thought about it, though — that you don’t realize how bad something is, until the weight of it is removed from you.

As the veil of both my anxiety and depression are gradually lifting, I’m seeing the light at the end of this tunnel more and more. Little things are making me smile. I find myself laughing — not forcing a chuckle, but actually laughing — frequently.

I realized late this morning, after having had quite a few frustrating things happen, that I was still feeling okay. In fact, I was still feeling better than I can recall feeling at any point over the last few months (maybe year). It’s like I didn’t realize how bad my depression and anxiety were until I was no longer held captive by them. I didn’t realize that it was my depression that was causing me to take naps most days, not because I was tired, but because I didn’t want to sit through the torturous thoughts that would come through my head, from after I’d finished breakfast to when I had my snack, and then again from that time to when I’d later eat lunch. And on a really bad day, again from lunch on through dinner. I didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal to have to work so hard to smile, even when around people who used to make me truly happy. I didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal to feel so drained of energy all the time, even when I’d gotten a full eight-hours of sleep the night before.

One of the hardest things in this recovery process is trusting. Those of us in treatment hear it all the time: Trust your team. Trust your dietician. Trust your psychiatrist. Trust your therapist. Trust your parents. But it’s a lot harder than it sounds! By trusting, we’re allowing one of the most important things in our lives, our eating disorder, to be taken out of our hands, and submitting to those who know better. There’s nothing they can tell us that’s reassuring enough. My team had told me many a time, “Trust us. It will get better.” And now, I’m finally seeing the fruits of my labor, the benefits of my trusting paying off. With that, I feel my trust I have for my team growing even stronger. I trust that they know what’s best for me, even if I don’t like it, and even if I don’t necessarily agree with it. I know that they have my best interest at heart, and I know that they’re walked this journey with other patients, too — patients who didn’t think it would get better, but for whom it did.

I’m stressed right now. Between going through training for my new summer job, finalizing details for my internship, studying for finals, still commuting Corvallis to Portland and back each weekend, etc., my plate is pretty full. But despite all of those things, I feel lighter. Not physically (my E.D. wishes!), but mentally and emotionally lighter. I don’t feel like I’ll snap if one more thing goes wrong, and I don’t feel exhausted when I wake up in the morning.

I did something challenging today. I got rid of about 50 pieces of clothing. Some of it will be sold, and the rest donated. My therapist has been encouraging me for a while to go through my closet and take out the clothes that are no longer fitting me, as they’re not serving any purpose besides reminding me that I’m gaining weight! The process of getting rid of clothes is challenging though. Not just because they no longer fit me, as I know that can be challenging for the average person as well, but because getting rid of them implies that I’m not going back to a weight where they will fit again. Ever. That sort of finality is scary, it means that I’m letting go of another layer of my eating disorder. As I shared on my recovery Instagram account (@balancedbridge), last week I said, “Goodbye,” to a pair of jeans that had a lot of emotional meaning to me. The quoted text below was how I captioned the photo.

Well, the day has come.
My body-checking jeans are officially too small.
My therapist has told me to get rid of this pair of jeans countless times, and I kept putting it off.
This morning, as I strained to pull them over my ever-growing thighs, I realized that the time had finally come. They are too tight.
It’s with great sadness that I say goodbye to these jeans. They’ve been with me through a lot. I told my therapist that I couldn’t get rid of them, because that symbolized really moving on from my eating disorder. I’ve used these jeans to body-check since I got them my senior year of high school. That’s four years. That’s a LONG time.
Today though, I am choosing recovery. Today, I’m moving forward. And today, I’m saying goodbye to these jeans 👋🏼

If you don’t know what body-checking is, it’s a term used in the E.D. community for measuring one’s body, and it’s always regarded in a negative way. For me, getting rid of the pair of jeans I’ve used to body-check (there were a few other items of clothing used for that as well, but I got rid of them when I was in the PHP program last year) is a pretty big step. I hope to never have to get rid of another item of clothes used for body-checking, as I hope to be ridding myself of that nasty habit.

I know I said I probably wouldn’t blog again before the end of the school year (and I meant it when I said it!), but it’s just such a great outlet for me! I decided to write a post because of today being celebrated worldwide as “National Eating Disorder Action Day.” If you want to read more about what this day means, click here.


If you’re reading this, thank you for supporting me and following my journey. Happy June, and I hope you’re able to enjoy this beautiful sunshine!

🙂 Bridge


An Unfortunate Reality Check

I had what I would call “an unfortunate reality check” yesterday.

As many of you know, I have been on exercise restriction for some time now (17 months, actually, but who’s counting?). It started back in December of 2015, when I was admitted to residential treatment, and has been in place (to some degree) ever since. Some of that, however, has been self-imposed. I made the personal decision to take a year off from doing cardio after reading Decoding Anorexia and learning about the increased success rates seen in patients who do so. However, once my year was up, I’d fallen back into a place of needing to restore weight, and so was advised to continue abstaining from cardiovascular exercise. This has been one of the most difficult parts of my recovery, but I am proud to say I’ve adhered to my medical professionals’ recommendations. There have been days (many, actually) that I have wanted nothing more than to get out my frustration, anger, joy, anxiety, sadness, glee — you name it — by running until I hit a wall…but I have refrained. It’s a constant battle between healthy Bridgette wanting to do anything and everything to get my weight up to a place where I’m healthy enough to exercise, and the eating disorder, who tells me if I go over my meal plan by a single ounce, then my entire world will fall apart. I’m thankful that more and more, the former seems to be winning out.

I will say, abstaining from cardio has had many benefits. For one, I’ve learned a lot of new coping skills. Coping skills that I know I wouldn’t have had to learn to use if I could’ve evaded my emotions by “running them out.” Secondly, it’s prevented me from relapsing farther than I already did. I strongly believe that I would be in a much, much worse place right now and would be having to restore a great deal more weight than I am already having to, if I had added cardio back into my exercise regimen once I was granted the “Ok” to do so. Thirdly, it’s helping me view my relationship with exercise more healthily. It’s no secret that cardio exercise is an instantaneous calorie burner, and for someone with OCD, anxiety and depression, and anorexia, that can quickly turn into a full-fledged addiction. I’m really proud to say that I enjoy each and every time I walk into the gym to lift weights now, (albeit wishing I could be there for more than 20 minutes at a time!), and that I feel strong when doing so. Fourth and lastly (though I could probably think of more things!), abstaining from weight-bearing exercise has helped maintain my physical health while going through this recovery process.

“What am I talking about?”, you may be wondering. “Exercise is good for your bones?”. That is true, but as it turns out, it’s only true under certain circumstances. Exercise increases bone strength when hormone levels (FSH, LH, estrogen, and estradiol) are high enough. Otherwise, it can be detrimental to the bones, causing irreversible damage to an already weakened body.

And that is where my unfortunate reality check comes in.

I’ve been dying (yes, dying) to go for a run, increasingly so as the weather has gotten nicer and I’ve seen more and more people out doing it. I talked in my last post about wanting to run the 5k that my roommates participated in at the Wanderlust mindfulness triathlon we did last weekend. I wasn’t given my treatment team’s blessing to run it, so I walked it…but that sparked a new conversation. How did we really know my bones weren’t strong enough to handle this? My weight is the highest it’s been in a long time, and actually a weight that I’ve had my period at before (years ago). Couldn’t my body just be taking a long time to start my period, but physically be ready to do so?

Naturally, I presented these questions to my team. They were understanding, and agreed to order blood testing to check my hormone levels. The deal was: If my hormone levels came back “normal,” we would discuss increasing my activity, as that would mean my bones were strong enough to endure more exercise without damage. It would also mean that my period was on its way to returning, but likely was just going to take a bit more time. What “increased activity” would look like was TBD, but you can bet I started brainstorming the minute they said, “We’ll see.” What would I do first?! Where would I run; which trails would I hit? Should I do my favorite loop around the Nike campus, or go back to where we did our summer cross country runs up on Wildwood Trail? Oh, and I could LAP SWIM! That sounds so nice, especially now that we’re getting warmer weather! Not to mention the drop-in gymnastics class I’d been so eager to try ever since before I hurt my hand… I was brimming with ideas, and I hadn’t even gotten the go-ahead yet. You could say I got a little ahead of myself.

Friday I had my blood work done, and I prayed. Oh, I prayed so much. I wanted this so, so badly. I knew that I still had to get to the new weight my treatment team had set, regardless of the outcome, but if I could just be granted the go-ahead to go for a run, I would be so, so happy.

I wasn’t supposed to learn the results until my follow-up appointment with my psychiatrist this coming Friday, but because I’m annoying and wanted to know the results, I called him over the weekend and asked if he could please call me on Monday to let me know; I couldn’t wait any longer.

Well, it turns out that I will be waiting longer. My levels were too low. Not a little too low, but quite a bit; low enough that he doesn’t think my period’s going to return in the coming month, and certainly too low to add in any weight-bearing exercise. To say I was devastated would be an incredible understatement. I got the call from him yesterday morning, and have spent much of the day today pulling myself out of what I know could easily become a state of depression. Despite the sadness, I went about the rest of my day as planned. I still went to the gym and did my 20 minutes of weight-lifting that I’m allowed to do three times a week, and I enjoyed every single second of those 20 minutes. I kept plans to meet up with my Dad, and then my friend Elizabeth later in the afternoon. I will go about the rest of my day, and week, and months to come, doing just what I have been: plugging away at recovery. I know that I can be proud of all the achievements I’m making, even if I can’t run yet. I know that in time (and with added body fat), my period will return. I know that one day, somewhere down the line, I will be able to go for a run — and OH, how I will cherish that day!

It was a really good reminder. I learned from my dietician that though my being at this weight was high enough to trigger my menstrual cycle years ago, it likely is not anymore. The reason for that is: research has shown that each relapse causes a higher body fat percentage needed in order for the body to have a period. The science behind that is that the body doesn’t feel “safe enough” to worry about using the nutrition is getting on non-vital functions, like hormones. Each time I’ve relapsed, my body has had the rug (i.e.: nutrition) pulled out from under it, and therefore, it doesn’t want to waste any unnecessary energy producing hormones. So, while X pounds may have been enough weight for me to have my period before I’d relapsed multiple times, this time, my body may decide that it’s not ready to have a period until I’m at X+Y pounds.

This has been sobering for me. It was an unfortunate reality check, but also a great reminder of the damage I’ve done to my body, and the damage I will work to never do again. I’ve put my body through the ringer and back these last six years, and now I am paying the consequences. I know a lot of people have a hard time reconciling these types of instances along with having a faith in God. I have a hard tine reconciling many things in my faith, but not this. The Bible tells us that God is just. It tells us that He loves us and wants what’s best for us, but also that he is fair, and righteous, and enforces punishment. I don’t believe that God is punishing me by doing this, per se, but I do think I’m paying the consequences for the actions I did to my body.

The one saving grace for me, in all of this, is that my treatment team is proud of me. They’re really, really proud of me — and I can’t even begin to describe how good that makes me feel. I’ve pushed myself in multiple ways over the past month especially, from going above and beyond eating what’s on my meal plan, to trying out new recipes, to being honest and owning up about when I’ve cut something out, and then making up for it, etc. All three of them (therapist, dietician, and psychiatrist) have told me individually how proud of me they are, and I don’t take that lightly. It means a lot, because they don’t always say it…  so when they do, I know it’s genuine. I know that I am doing a good job. I just need to keep at it, and I’ll get there, eventually.

I didn’t intend for this to become a full-length blog post, but I guess that’s just what happens sometimes. It’s hard to keep things short when there’s so much I have to say! There’s a lot more I could write about, but for both my sake and yours, I’ll cap it here. This week is week 8 (out of 10) at school, and as classes are ramping up for final projects and exams, I know things will continue to get more and more stressful. If I don’t blog from now until a few weeks from now, you’ll know why!

I hope you all have a blessed week, and as always, thank you for walking this journey with me.



Acne and Anorexia, What’s the Connection?

My skin has been breaking out pretty badly for the last several months. I’d chalked it up to just not washing my face enough, using the wrong make-up, etc…but what I found out today changed the way I think about it completely! I’d tried almost everything to make my newfound “acne problem” go away. I’d researched causes of oily skin, purchased multiple skin care products, and my newest plan: no foundation for thirty days (I’m on day 21 right now — no difference!), in hopes of calming my skin down. The weird thing about me having acne though, is that it’s something I’ve never experienced. All throughout middle and high school, I had “perfect” skin. That’s what everyone told me, and it was pretty true — I never even began to wear foundation until I started college, and I’d never owned concealer. So why was this happening to me, and why now?

While I’d entered numerous search terms on my quest to find out what was making my skin so angry, I never thought to Google “anorexia recovery and acne.” When the thought finally came to me today, I was astounded at what I saw, but it also made so much sense! If you’d like to read an article about it, you can do so here.

While it doesn’t plague everyone going through weight restoration (it didn’t happen to me the first two times I went through it), it’s not uncommon for patients recovering from anorexia to experience severe bouts of acne. The reasoning for this is, the body is learning to adjust to a new equilibrium of hormones it’s being flooded with. The hormones have been suppressed for so long, that the body doesn’t know what to do with this massive influx of them…and the results of this are acne. This does resolve it self, with time (one article I read said within six months of being at a healthy weight, i.e. having a period).

You can probably imagine my joy when I read this. Oh, you mean I don’t just have gaining the remainder of my weight to look forward to? My skin is going to erupt into a bunch of tiny little volcanoes, too? Actually, I was glad. For one, there’s hope of my so-called perfect skin coming back…if I stay in recovery and don’t have to go through this process again. Talk about motivation 😉 Secondly, this influx of hormones is a really good thing, as it means my period is likely on it’s way sometime soon. When that day comes, I will SHOUT from the rooftops!


I’m not going to blog any more tonight, as I just used this as a little study break between anatomy study sessions. I hope you learned something new though, and as always, thank you for following along and supporting me on this journey!

🙂 Bridge

P.S. I had a weight check yesterday and my weight was up a good amount, again. I am getting closer!

An Update

Midterm season began last week and will continue for the next three, so naturally, I decided it was a good time for a blog post 😉

I don’t feel like anything monumental has happened since I last wrote, but things still have happened… So, here’s a little update.

The praises: There has been so much good that’s happened over the last few weeks, the highlight of which took place last weekend. I was able to go on a women’s retreat with my church at school, Corvallis Foursquare. “Wonderful,” is the only way I can think to describe it. While away at Rockaway beach I was encouraged, fed (both spiritually and literally), and challenged. My recovery was challenged, mostly. As you can probably imagine, the thought of being away from my routine for 48 hours did not exactly fill me with glee. Still, I felt that the Lord was telling me to go, and much to my eating disorder’s dismay, I listened! The sun shone (a real treat for us Oregonians!), both the worship and the speakers were great, and we were well-loved. I was able to spend time in fellowship with women I haven’t before, and with whom I share my love of Jesus. I also connected with a young woman who is in recovery from heroin addiction, and I can’t put into words how powerful that was for me. About a year ago, my therapist shared with me an article written by Russell Brand about his addiction to heroin. She was comparing it to my recovery, and his experience with it was so spot-on to my own that it’s stuck with me ever since. I’d never met someone who’d been addicted to drugs, until this weekend. The sharing of this woman’s story and the redemption that Jesus has brought to her life brought tears to my eyes, and we immediately bonded. This week we got together one-on-one and talked about recovery, and now she’s going with me to a support group that she went to during her recovery, on Tuesday.

It truly was a perfect weekend. On an equally as glorious note, I was able to change my therapy appointment to this last Thursday instead of Saturday. That allowed me to go home mid-week, and stay in Corvallis for church this weekend! It was great to see everyone again after such an intimate weekend together.

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How can you NOT worship with a setting as picturesque as this?!


The prayers: My depression and anxiety have been pretty sucky these last couple of weeks. I was able to have a much-needed break from the depression part while on the retreat. I’m so, so thankful for that break that God gave me. The anxiety was still present, largely because of the fact that I had very little control over what I would be eating (I ate all of my meals there but brought my own snacks). I won’t get into the details of the depression, but you can trust when I say it’s been bad. I think that I’m doing a really good job of not letting it dictate my life, though, and push myself daily to do the things that “healthy Bridgette” would find enjoyable.  I’m continuing to be monitored closely under the watchful eye of my psychiatrist, therapist, and dietician. I ask almost once a week if my weekly therapy appointments can be moved to every two weeks, but my therapist is insistent that I need to continue weekly appointments in order for me to be successful (at least for the time being). I know she’s right, but I cannot wait until I’m no longer having to make that trek back to Portland each week to see her!

I’m slowly making progress toward reaching my final target weight. It’s been a two steps forward, one step back kind-of process. My mom and I went to the GAP when I was in town last week and bought me a pair of jeans that had a little bit of room in them. My dad has offered to replace my clothes that are getting too small, and I didn’t realize how helpful that would be (not wearing pants that are too tight). It definitely makes it easier to follow my meal plan when I know I have pants that will fit me in a few more pounds and aren’t already bursting at the seams. Something my therapist has been wanting me to do for a while, is get rid of my old jeans…the ones that still fit at this point (kind of), but are certainly not going to in a couple more pounds. She tells me almost every time I see her (and so does my psychiatrist) that I’m just making it harder on myself, prolonging the inevitable in waiting for the day that they no longer fit. And it’s true, I know I am. I just can’t bring myself to get rid of them just yet. It goes along with another phrase I was reminded of by my team this week: Rip the band-aid off! Meaning, just finish up the weight restoration and get it over with! That’s scary to me, though. So, so scary. I guess that’s one of the places where I’m really still struggling — in accepting that once I get to my target weight, I’m not going back. I need to stay there. That thought terrifies me.

On the flipside: Two people have sent me messages over the last couple days that have been incredibly encouraging to me. Neither of them do I know very well, but both are in recovery from anorexia. Both of them have told me, literally word for word, that getting fully weight restored, to their target weight range, decreased their anxiety was so much they couldn’t even describe it. It seems so counter-intuitive, that doing the exact opposite thing of what the eating disorder wants me to do, gaining weight, could provide such relief. Here I have two living pieces of proof, though! Two people who went through what I’m going through, and who are here to tell me that getting to the other side is worth it.

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All in all, I’ve been incredibly blessed over this last month. Aren’t we always?




New Recipes, New Me

I’ve done something that’s new to me over the last couple of weeks: I’ve cooked. Not only did I cook (which is a big deal for me — it can be scary to see all of the ingredients that are going into a meal), but I ate what I’d created. The recipes were all really simple and turned out really well, so I thought I’d share them here!

I’m going to stop myself from writing a full post right now because I’m pretty slow typing with just one hand, but trust me, enough has happened over the last week that I certainly could!


Okay…onto the recipes!

P.F. Chang’s style chicken lettuce wraps


Blueberry Muffins


Fettuccine Alfredo



I found all of the above recipes on Pinterest, but the photos are my own. The fettuccine alfredo was no question the biggest challenge for me E.D.-wise, but my mom had requested it, so I was determined to make it. Nine times out of ten, we eat food that I’m comfortable with (pasta NOT being one!). I sacrificed and ate this meal with her, and I know she really, really appreciated it.