A Great Day

Yesterday was a great day.

Nothing in particular “happened” to make it that way, but the way I’ve been feeling made it so.

I haven’t been cleared to do more activity, my period hasn’t returned, and I’m not yet done with classes for the term (TWO MORE WEEKS). Yet, for some reason, I’m feeling awesome.

My therapist said on Thursday that I seem like a whole different person. Dr. Rock concurred with her at my check-in with him on Friday.

And you know what’s cool?

I weigh the most I have in over three years. I feel the best I have in that time frame.

My treatment team has told me that as I got into a healthier weight range, I would probably start to feel better. I didn’t think they could possibly right. I guess that maybe they were! I feel the most vibrant, full-of-life, and confident that I can remember feeling since, honestly, ever. And that is despite a lovely zit that’s made it’s home in the center of my forehead!

I know that I’d be naive to think that it’s all going to be a downhill battle from here. I know it won’t be. My meal plan just got increased (again), due to my weight holding fairly constant despite the amount of food I’m putting into it. I’m handling it well, though,  agreeing to make the additions necessary and continuing to move forward. I also have begun to get intermittent cramps, something I’m really (really really really) hoping is a sign of my period on it’s way back. We’ll see!

The photos below are from yesterday. My mom, brother, and his girlfriend came down to Corvallis to go to a baseball game, and I was able to give them a tour of the Football center, where I work. We had a blast. As I said in my Instagram caption, “The sun was out, Beaver baseball won 11-0, and I got to show my fam around the ol’ workplace. Couldn’t ask for a better day!”

Have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend, Everyone. Thank you to all of those who have, will, or are currently serving our country ❤️

🙂 Bridge

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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.

 

-Bridge

Walking the 5k

Today, I completed my first mindfulness triathalon with two of my best friends. It consisted of a 5k, an hour of yoga, and a meditation. We registered for this a few months ago, and back then it had been my goal to be healthy enough to run the 5k. Yesterday at one of my weekly appointments, I broached the subject with my therapist.

“So, Becca…You know how my weight’s been going up pretty consistently?”

“Yes, Bridge.”

“Do you think, maybe…I could run the 5k with Anna and Claire tomorrow?”

“Bridge…You know the answer to that. Not yet.”

I was broken-hearted. I’d known all along that it wasn’t a sure thing, but I’d been doing so well! Why wasn’t I getting this one privilege that I wanted so bad, as a result of all of my hard work? It was just a measly 3.1 miles, and I was going to be doing it anyway, walking or running! But for whatever reason, my treatment team didn’t think it was a good idea, and I had to just accept that. After taking a minute to process (and complaining/crying to my mom for a while), I took a deep breath, and my mom countered the thoughts I was having, that “I’m not getting any better and I’m NEVER going to get better.” She reminded me that I AM getting better. I’m making progress every single freaking day. Last night, I had a burger and corn, and Hagen Dazs ice cream with my roommates. Today, I ate my breakfast two hours earlier than normal so that we could get to our triathalon, and then at the event I tried a sample of granola. All of those things are little things, but they’re huge to me. They’re things that I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing even six months ago.

Today at the triathalon, I walked the 5k, with two of my best friends. It may not have been what I wanted, but it was what was right for me. And I am accepting that 💗

My registration bib

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.

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.

 

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

-Bridge

 

 

“Overcoming the Numbers Game”

As promised, here is the link to the article from the Beaver’s Digest magazine. I am thankful to my new friend, Adair, for sharing a part of my story with the Oregon State community.

I’ll get to posting a more in-depth blog eventually, but I wanted to post the link to the magazine article in before that time comes. I’m back in Corvallis as I write this, after another successful doctor appointment where I learned that my weight is continuing to go up. This is good. I know it is good. It does not feel good!

For the time being, my focus is on enjoying this final term of my Junior year with my roommates and friends in Corvallis, as well as getting through the anatomy, chemistry, and kinesiology courses I am taking (Whew! That’s a mouthful!), not to mention, my recovery. I look forward to blogging  the next time I have a chance 🙂

 

-Bridge

Even If

The song Even If, by Mercy Me, is one I’ve been clinging to lately. Mainly, it’s the chorus that resonates with me.

I know You’re able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don’t

My hope is You alone 

I haven’t felt a whole lot like blogging the last couple of days. 

To be completely honest, I haven’t even really felt like talking. 

I got some news on Monday that kind of rocked my world.

My treatment team did a little digging this past week and found my old growth charts, from before I had my eating disorder. My dietician was becoming suspicious that the target weight they’d set for me, the one I just got to, wasn’t high enough. My period’s yet to come back, but she must’ve had a hunch other than that, because even once at a healthy weight, it can still take someone’s body anywhere from one to twelve months to resume having a menstrual cycle.

So anyway, my psychiatrist pulled out my growth charts. He saw that the target weight they’d been using for me was determined when I was fifteen years old. It hadn’t been accounted for, over the last six years I’ve been in treatment, that I’ve gotten older as well — and, that according to the growth charts, my weight should’ve increased.

You might be wondering what the big deal is. What would the harm be in my target weight being just a few pounds too short? Well, according to research that’s been done on anorexia, it can be pretty detrimental. It actually may be to blame for me having relapsed four times over the last six years; I hadn’t been getting to a high enough weight. If you want to read more about the correlation between anxiety, eating disorder recovery, and why the last few pounds of weight restoration are so important, I talked about it in this blog post.

I’d anticipated that I may be getting some tough news at my appointment on Tuesday, because my therapist told me it might be a good idea to bring my mom to our appointment. My mom normally doesn’t come to my therapy appointments because she’s at work. For her to request time off from work is a pretty big deal, so I knew it was serious. I was not, however, prepared to be told all of this new information, including my new target weight range, at my appointment with my psychiatrist on Monday.

The news that I’m no longer weight restored was very hard to hear. I now have to gain as much weight as I’ve put on since I got home from Italy, again…and it’s more than just a couple of pounds. I have to get to a weight that I’ve never been before.

I’m scared. I’m also sad, and frustrated. I’m feeling a whole slew of emotions that I know I could eliminate with the help of my trusty friend, E.D. I’m not going to turn to him for help, though. I’m determined to make it to the other side of this. I know that I can, and I know that I will. But, it is going to be very, very hard. As uncomfortable as I’ve been over the last three months, I am now about to be even more so.

The reality of this new weight range hasn’t just been hard for me, either. My mom’s cried more than once this week. I know she knows how hard it’s going to be for me, and how hard it’s going to be for her. For one, it’s hard for her to watch me in pain, but it’s also hard because it means an even more extensive role for her as the food police. I know we were both so looking forward to that portion of our relationship becoming less and less prominent.

As much as I wish that this process was over (with every fiber of my being…), I firmly trust my treatment team. I know that they want what’s best for me, and I have to believe that they won’t lead me astray.

I was given permission to do a “freebie” of cardio on Monday afternoon, after hearing the news that brought me to tears. I chose to go to Sky High trampoline park, where I bounced around for an hour. It was really nice of my psychiatrist to give me his blessing to do that. I know it burned a lot of calories, and I had to make up for it by adding to my meal plan, but I think he understood the benefit of it for my mental sanity. After doing thirty flips into the foam pit and bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, I drove myself to Washington Square mall and bought myself a new jacket at Lululemon with a gift card I’d gotten for Christmas. According to the “incentive sheet” I’d made for myself a couple of weeks ago, that gift card wasn’t supposed to be redeemed until I’d maintained my restored weight for three weeks. Because of the circumstances, though, and because I wasn’t going to make myself wait another three months to use the gift card when I’ve been working so hard, I made an exception.

I’m back in Corvallis this week for work, but I’ve been on spring break since Monday . I am very pleased with my grades from this term, especially given what I’ve been dealing with, and am very eager for seven days of relaxing with my mom and brother. We’ll leave for Boise for Bradley’s lacrosse tournament on Friday and then drive to Bend on Sunday, where we’ll stay for the remainder of the week. I’ll return to Corvallis the following Monday and begin spring term of classes. I’m planning taking ten credits, which is a step up from the six I took this quarter. My goal is to slowly begin re-integrating into college living, hopefully staying in Corvallis for some weekends and not having to travel to Portland as frequently for more appointments. I will say though, this goal was made before hearing about how much more weight restoration I’d be having to do, so we’ll see how it goes. As my mom keeps reminding me: If I were in treatment right now (which I technically should be), I wouldn’t be getting to do any of this stuff that I’m doing. I wouldn’t be getting to take classes, I wouldn’t be getting to stay half of the week in Corvallis, I wouldn’t be getting to work. For this season of my life, my focus is recovery. I’m going to get myself as healthy as I possibly can so that I can live my life again. That is my real goal.

 -Bridge

Mile 22

I’ve compared this journey to running a marathon more than once. That analogy still applies, maybe even more so now. I’ve longed for such a long time to be able to write the words, “I did it,” (in reference to getting myself to a place of weight restoration) and now I finally can. As of last Friday, I am at the bottom of my healthy weight range, and I’ve managed to keep myself at that weight for the last week. I am really proud of myself for this. As much anxiety as it brings me to know that I nearing my healthy, restored, enough-for-my-period-to-resume-weight, I’m so proud. This is my first time being at this weight since discharging from treatment last April. And in all of my six years battling this eating disorder, I’ve never successfully put on the weight I had to like I just did, without re-entering intensive treatment. It has been (and still is, daily) an uphill battle, but as my mom reminds me daily: I’m getting closer to the finish line every day.

So, what does this stage of my recovery look like, you may wonder? Am I suddenly back to “normal”? Are my disordered thoughts gone? Can I go for a run, just because I want to?

The reality is, being weight restored doesn’t look a whole lot different for me than going through weight restoration did…at least, not yet. My meal plan hasn’t been adjusted down to a plan of weight maintenance, partially because my dietician thinks I may still be hyper-metabolic, and partially because I haven’t started my period yet. They won’t officially say I’m done gaining weight until that happens. But as for reaching the number we agreed upon, I’ve gotten myself there. My team has since told me more than once that they did not think I would be able to do this while remaining outpatient. While it certainly was not without an incredible amount of effort on everyone’s part, I did it.

For the most part, my days have been hard. I don’t think I’ve gone two days in a row where I didn’t cry at least once. I’m very uncomfortable — physically, mentally, and emotionally — but I know that’s just part of the process. I have had a pretty hard time focusing on schoolwork, my brain reeling with numbers of calories I have and will be consuming, along with other preoccupying thoughts. This isn’t an uncommon problem in patients recovering from anorexia, but unfortunately, the solution (to provide adderall for a brief period of time) counteracts the patient’s main goal of recovery: it acts as an appetite suppressant, and frequently leads to weight loss. So, I’ve had to deal with the preoccupying thoughts on my own. I am getting better at it, for the most part, but I’m looking forward to this next two weeks I have off of school. It will be a nice break to not be stressing about trying to learn the ins and outs of the human body (yay, anatomy!) while I’m also working so hard at my recovery.

As well as my disordered thoughts not having changed much yet, I’m still unable to do cardio. As you likely can imagine, that news was hard to hear. I’d assumed (which was dumb of me) that once I hit my target weight, I’d be good to go as far as resuming the type of exercise I wanted to. That is not the case. Typically (every time I’ve been in inpatient treatment) the rule has been: Once you’re weight restored, you move to Level C activity. “Level C” is code for three 45 minute workouts a week, or five 30 minute ones, cardiovascular activities or otherwise. My treatment team decided that wasn’t the best course of action for me this time though, due to the number of times I’ve relapsed and how key a part of my disorder exercise has been in the past. I understand where they’re coming from, and I can’t even say that I don’t agree with them. I am, however, very sad about it.

Now…onto the happier things! Some of the things that have really helped me over the last couple of weeks:

• Dana Patterson’s live Instagram chat (I sent her a question and she answered it live. I thought that was pretty cool. Technology!) and YouTube channel
• Fresh Fit n Healthy’s YouTube channel 
• Tabitha Farrar’s blog
• My devotional. I know I say it a lot, but I depend on my times with Jesus in the morning to start my day. My quiet time normally looks like me praying, asking Jesus to speak to me through His word, then reading that day’s page in my devotional, and then reading in my Bible whatever section the reading was based out of. I’ve gone through a lot of devotionals over the past ten or so years, but Streams in the Desert is my current favorite.
• The two songs that I’ve been replaying over and over and over…and over, again: What a Beautiful Name  and Even If. I swear, between Wicked and worship music, there’s not much that belting at the top of your lungs can’t help, at least a little!
• Daily check-ins with my mom (I explained those in this post)
• Yoga. I go to Live Well Studio when I’m at school and practice at home (by myself) when I’m not.
• My goody bag. My mom had the brilliant idea that I do a little shopping and create a goody bag of rewards for myself. The deal is, I get to pick one thing out of the bag each day that I follow my meal plan completely. These are some of the things in the goody bag: underwear, a sports bra, some socks, an eyelash curler, facial exfoliator, chapstick, etc.
• Winky (my longhaired miniature dachshund) when I’m at home, and the dogs at the Safe Haven Humane Society when I’m at school. I’ve been volunteering at Safe Haven since October and love just going and petting the dogs for an hour or two. I like knowing that I’m helping them while they’re helping me.

Also, something kind of exciting coming up… The Oregon State student magazine, Beaver’s Digest, wrote an article  on part of my story and how I’ve used this blog  to share the struggles of recovering from an E.D. with others. It will be published in their spring edition, which I believe comes out in a couple of weeks. I’ll post a link on here once it’s out.

 

As I approach Mile 22, I’m excited for what this next chapter of my life is going to bring me. I know it will likely be filled with a significant amount of discomfort, still, but I’m hopeful that it will get better every day, the longer I practice my new, healthy lifestyle as opposed to my disordered one. Thank you, as always, for your support and walking this road with me.

 

In Him,

Bridge

 

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.

 

 

-Bridge

 

Nearing the Finish Line

Now, I feel I need to preface this post by saying that I’m nowhere near approaching the finish line of being recovered from my eating disorder. After suffering from this illness for six years and having relapsed four times, I’ve come to accept that anorexia is a disease that I will likely be managing for the remainder of my life. I am, however, nearing the finish line of weight restoration (my dietician said that at this rate, I’ll be done in a week), which is very exciting, especially considering that I’ve been going through the process on an outpatient basis. Each time I’ve gone through weight restoration in the past, it’s been in an inpatient setting. Outpatient, for me, however, has looked different than it traditionally does. My team (consisting of my psychiatrist, dietician, and therapist) has been incredibly dedicated to me. Seriously, I don’t know how I got so lucky to wind up with them as my providers. Normally, outpatient means that the patient sees each of their providers once every one to two weeks. Not for me. I’ve seen each of them up to three times a week, ensuring that I was being monitored as closely as one possibly could be without admitting myself to an inpatient treatment program, something I was fighting hard to not do.

My mom has also played a vital role in getting me through this process. We’ve found numerous things that worked, as well as those that didn’t, and I thought it could be helpful to others who may be going through the same process if I shared what did. For one, we are constantly communicating. I know this can be a hard concept for some young adults, as they’re struggling with finding their independence, but if there’s one piece of advice I can give to someone recovering from an eating disorder, it’s that this is not your time to be independent. This is something I grappled with for a long time, but have finally just come to accept. With a lot of hard work, you’ll get there. I’ll get there. But the time to explore your independence is not now, while you’re in the throws of the most deadly mental illness in human history.

Our constant communication looks different day to day, depending on what I might need. It may be as simple as a Bible verse, texted to me during a meal. Or, it could be a Bitmoji (Yes, my mom uses Bitmoji. She is that cool.) along with a text saying, “Snack time?”. Many times, it’s a phone call, sometimes with me crying on the other end while she prays for God to give me peace of mind, other times with me just needing to vent about how overwhelmed and uncomfortable I feel. Whatever it be, she’s always there for me to turn to, and I can’t stress enough how important it is for someone going through recovery to have a person do what she does for me.

Other things we’ve found to be helpful have been:

• Following a strict meal plan, created by my dietician, my, mom, and myself. I have about ten that I cycle through and I am allowed to change up to one meal or snack a day, but everything else needs to remain the same, and I have to tell my mom what I am changing ahead of time. This reduces the amount of preoccupation I have throughout the day around what I will be eating, because it’s already set in stone.
• Doing a daily evaluation. Every day I record in a journal my: mood (in the morning and evening), level of motivation to recover, any acknowledgements of things I restricted that day, and both my high and low of the day. This is something we did when I was in inpatient treatment that I found helpful, so I decided to do it for myself in outpatient as well.
• Reading my blog each morning. It probably sounds silly, but about a month ago, I was telling my mom how helpful it had been for me to read some recovery blogs I’d found. She kind of laughed and said, “Bridge…Why don’t you read your blog? It’d probably help you!.” And it has! I read one post every morning, while I’m eating breakfast, to both remind me of where I’ve been, and to give me motivation for where I’m going.
• Spending time in God’s word. I’m an early riser and always have been, so for me, my special time with Jesus is in the morning. I love curling up on the couch, with a blanket and my fuzzy socks before anyone is awake, reading my devotional and Bible, sipping on a cup of coffee and having alone time with my Creator. I thank Him for everything He’s done for me, and ask Him to give me strength to fight this battle today.
• Decreasing my coffee consumption. I’m an avid coffee drinker and always have been, but my treatment team wasn’t too happy when they learned I was drinking up to five cups of black coffee a day. We agreed on a compromise: One to two cups of coffee I’m allowed to drink black, and if I want any more than that, it has to be a latte-type drink of some sort, or something with a milk base. I also have to order it with whole milk.
• Going home as much as possible. My treatment team initially wanted me to move home, but I was resistant, and eventually we came to a compromise that I would be home Thursday afternoons through Monday mornings, and at school Monday mornings through Thursday afternoons. This really has been a great compromise, as it’s allowed me to have the structure and support of my mom (i.e. her supervision around meals and snacks) for half of the week, and the friendship of my roommates and “normal” life of a college student the other half. The latter is something that I really think is important for me emotionally.
• Rewarding myself. This may sound silly and like I’m just looking for an excuse to give myself gifts, but really, it’s not. Each time I have a good weigh-in (aka, my weight has gone up), I do something special for myself. A couple times it’s been getting my nails done, one week I bought myself a new book, another time I got myself a pair of earrings… The idea is that the eating disorder tells me that gaining weight is bad. With positive re-inforcement, I’m hoping to teach myself that for me, it’s good.
• Paying attention to how much activity I’m doing. My dad bought me an Apple watch about a month ago, something that was really sweet of him and that I really appreciated, as an “I’m proud of you” gift. One result of it has been allowing me to see how much activity I’m doing. I’ve had to be really careful to not get obsessive about it, but I’ve done a great job at that, I think. I only check the activity tracker to see if I’ve done more than three miles of walking that day…which, on days that I’m working, I do, easily! Some days, I’m walking up to seven miles! I had no idea! It’s amazing how quickly all those trips to take the garbage out and deliver mail can add up. It also explains why I’ve had a harder time putting on weight in Corvallis than when at home in Portland. At home, I rarely walk more than two miles a day. I’ve been adding in a minimum of one Gatorade and sometimes more food to my meal plan on days I’m walking more than three miles, and I think that’s really helped in my restoration process as well.

 

I know it’s going to sound cheesy, but it’s true. While I’m nearing the finish line of weight restoration, I’m nearing the starting line of the rest of my life. And that is something that’s just finally started to click for me. I’m hopeful that the next time I post on this blog, I’ll be weight restored…and that is something that I can honestly say: I am so, SO excited about.

If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, check out the Recovery Resources section of my blog.

 

-Bridge

 

P.S. I’m having surgery on my other hand tomorrow. I probably will not be blogging again for a little while! Have a blessed month, everyone!