These are images of actual journal entries I wrote 2 and a half years ago while I was in residential treatment. To those in recovery: I am sharing this with you to show that it will get better. To everyone else: I am sharing this with you to bring awareness to the plight of those with eating disorders, in hopes that you will gain a new sense of understanding and sympathy.
Looking at this, you may just see a girl who really loves Christmas, but I see a girl who wasn't willing to take the time to recover, but instead, so focused on getting out of treatment by a specific day. Again, I was so focused on this number day of the month that I was unable to immerse myself in recovery. I also feel sad....the girl who wrote this was so sure she would be discharged before Christmas, but she wasn't. She would soon find herself drowning under tsunamis of tears upon learning this heartbreaking news. But she would also rise. She would vow to never miss another Christmas again, and so far (fingers crossed!!) she hasn't.
This was literally my ED speaking through ink....I was in the darkest depths of my disorder, constantly worrying about my weight and how my meal plan was too caloric for my "slow" (completely made this up) metabolism. This is the epitome of a girl engrossed by irrational body image fears, a girl who is unwilling to recover physically.
The first thing I thought while reading this was "God, am I still that melodramatic and stubborn?" It was my stubborn nature that held me in the grip of anorexia for so many years. My mindset was always "my way or the highway." If I didn't get what I want, I would use whatever means necessary to show my frustration, even if it meant taking giant steps backwards in my recovery process. For some reason, I can't help but laugh. Looking back at this, as a fully recovered and happy person, my past thoughts now seem so ridiculous to me. (The lines that really got me were "If I am not out by Christmas, I will literally go insane. I will go on a hunger strike, so I better get out of here" and "I recently got a rash all over my body, and it really itches. I think it's because I'm allergic to this torture.") However, back a couple of years ago, these thoughts were raw and real and kept me entrapped in my disorder. To someone who has not experienced similar struggles: although the thought process of someone who is struggling with an eating disorder seems (and frankly, is) totally absurd, it is the most terrifying and manipulating force ever. So, please show sympathy :)
Reading this journal entry now, I can so clearly see that I was trying to write that I was "better" and "changed" so that I would start to believe it myself....As it came closer to Christmas, I became increasingly more and more anxious to know about my discharge date. I remember the days just before the 25th, I would spend hours yelling at my parents on the phone, trying to convince them that I was ready for the real world. I probably texted my mom 100 paragraphs a day, typing a bunch of gibberish lies in hopes of leaving treatment. Patience truly is a necessity in the recovery process.
Clearly, from this date, you can see that I was not discharged by Christmas. I wrote this following a 4-day mental breakdown, too tired to cry any longer. Instead, I became determined to never miss out on living because of my eating disorder. Sometimes, it takes new lows to build new highs. In this case, the low of being stuck in treatment at Christmas lent me a newfound sense of anger towards my illness that would catalyze my recovery. I began to realize that having a skinny frame was not worth losing my happiness and hope. This journal entry is based off of a common exercise, in which a letter is written addressed to one's "ED." For me, this letter was the equivalent of a very angry breakup text. And after I ended this abusive relationship, I felt free and empowered. Goodbye ED, hello recovery. (Please ignore the cringe-worthy drawing, LOL)
Wow! What a difference a week of being dedicated to recovery can make! I was finally able to acknowledge that treatment was not an unwarranted punishment, but a way out from all the darkness and fear. I was able to realize that I needed help, that I wasn't completely fine. I began to have hope for the future, setting my dreams and goals for the new year. What makes me even happier, looking back, is that I checked off all the things on my 2015 Bucketlist. I did travel half a world away to help clean up the slums of Bangkok. I did (& am currently doing) research in a lab. I did and still am living life to a relative fullness. I am proud that I embraced recovery, for it offered me such amazing opportunities.
Looking at the progress I made in just one month, I am so proud. I went from only being concerned with maintaining my sickly body to looking towards a future in which anorexia had no place. Thanks to recovery, I became a more grateful, self-aware Simran.