Up until today, this blog has been dedicated to my eating disorder recovery journey, my experiences as the proud founder of Southern Smash and the extraordinary people I’ve met and the events along the way. Traveling through the depths of an eating disorder and into the life of recovery puts life in perspective. Seemingly simple life events are richer and colors bolder. The sunshine on your face is warmer and you can’t help but soak in the freedom in each breath and…
Small choices. Tiny decisions. Day by day. This is recovery. Recovery is not perfect. It is not a straight line. Recovery does not happen overnight. It happens when you decide to get out of bed and get dressed, even though your depression is so gruesome it hurts. It happens when you decide to eat your snack, even though your eating disorder is yelling at you to skip it. Recovery happens when you make the brave choice to sit on a therapist’s…
A few years ago, I was tailgating at an LSU game when I saw my friend’s husband laughing and pointing at his buddy’s shirt. As his shirt came into view, I realized it said, “I beat Anorexia” in big bold letters. The obnoxiously drunken tailgater was an overweight man and clearly the so-called ‘life of the party.’ I cringed as everyone else laughed. I couldn’t understand why someone would put this on and think it was funny. Does he also…
Tap…Tap…Tap…Tap… The weight kept jolting further and further to the right. Higher and higher. My anxiety raised in parallel unison with the climb of the scale’s number. (Oh, you thought I was immune from scales because I smash them for a living? Not so much.) The nurse silently wrote down a number and I followed her into a room. My heart and thoughts started racing… ‘How did I gain so much in such a short time period? This never happened…
Last week I had the honor of speaking and meeting with the amazing patients of Castlewood. I was touched by their openness and engagement during our time together. I could have sat and talked with them all day. They were full of questions that both challenged and excited my thoughts surrounding eating disorder recovery. As I sat in the Houston airport Saturday night waiting on a delayed plane, my mind kept replaying two questions from the talk at Castlewood I. One young woman asked…
Tuxedo, North Carolina. Camp Green Cove. My happy place. Camp Green Cove shaped me into the person I am today. The people of Green Cove, and our brother camp Mondamin, are and will always be my family. There is not a doubt in my mind that I am alive because of this place and my camp family. Camp was my yearly retreat from the mean kids at school and later in life, from the voices in my head. In a world…
Today I find myself on the cusp of a pretty ginormous (ginormous being the professional word) life transition. My husband, son, baby-to-be, two dogs and I are moving. And I don’t mean down the road. We are packing up and heading east to Sea Island, Georgia. To say my heart is broken is an understatement. To say that my heart is soaring with excitement is also an understatement. It is simply a whirlwind of emotions from this dream job offer…
It is no secret my eating disorder kept me from enjoying life and putting myself out there. I feared failure like most people fear burning to death. So rather than risk not being good enough, I stayed safely inside my comfort zone – and by comfort zone I mean eating disorder. But I don’t think I am alone in this scenario. Without naming names, I know countless others who don’t put themselves out there for fear of judgement or not…
I often write about people and professionals who have greatly impacted my recovery journey, but there has been one professional category that I have yet to write about. The Nutritionist. (Insert negative ‘Dun-dun-dun’ music here.) Nutritionists get the worst rap out of anyone on the ED Treatment team. Not to mention, they also own various pieces of rubber food to teach portion size, which certainly does not buy them any cool points. My first encounter with a nutritionist was in an outpatient…
The Barnes & Noble cashier gave me a soft smile as she checked out my book. I immediately began to sweat profusely. “Oh no,” I thought to myself, “She knows I have an eating disorder and that I see a therapist. She thinks I’m weird and crazy.” Yes, because I bought a book about eating disorders I was convinced that suddenly the world knew my secret and judged me. And by the world, I mean that cashier. It was the…