It is a different sensation to not hate your body. Essentially, I am going against everything I was programmed to know and innately despise. But today, I love my body. Shhhhhh. Did I just say that? Gasp! What will friends think? What will I have to say during those body-bashing lunches? Nothing! Damn that feels good. My little family arrived on at the beach today. I felt zero body anxiety or pressure. In fact, I even enjoyed a little Chick-fil-A…
When I decided to admit myself to treatment, I had no idea the process I would have to undergo. In my mind, going to treatment was like the TV show Intervention or Dr. Phil, where the addict says, ‘Yes, I will go.’ Then the family cries, hugs it out and then a plane scoops her up and the Clinical Director meets her at the front door at midnight. Well, not so much. There is paperwork, interviews, more paperwork, insurance, lab…
This was it. Time to say goodbye. My footsteps quietly echoed through our empty house as I said my final farewell to our first home. Nearly six years ago, we made this house our home. Its walls witnessed the magnitude of our family’s journey and kept us safe as we weathered the roughest storms of life. I quietly walked through each room one last time and the memories of the past played on the blank walls like an old movie…
For the past four years, I have been in a committed, long-term relationship with someone other than my husband. Her name is Mary. She is my therapist. I stumbled onto her couch in July of 2009. While I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall in our first session, I do have a vague recollection of what went down. I remember sitting in the waiting room angry, defensive and scared. There was no doubt in…
As I sit in my cozy airplane window seat, I can’t help but reflect back on my Boston experience. I thought this blog would mainly be about my time at the Almost Anorexic book signing, but there is something else compelling my fingers to click away on this early morning flight home: BOUNDARIES A word that meant nothing to me three years ago. I was an all or nothing boundary babe. My relationships were complete enmeshment or were built with…
My heart is so heavy. You read about it in books and listen to therapists tell you that eating disorders kill, but you don’t believe it. You never think it will happen to someone you know and you definitely never think it will take your life. But is does and it can. My heart sinks each time I read of someone passing, but this time I feel like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. There is a unique…
.July 11. Today marks four years since I made a decision that would ultimately alter the course of my life. A decision that set me on this beautiful path of recovery. Last year, I told my July 11th story in the blog “Angels Among Us.” This year, I can’t help but reflect on the magnitude that was this day ONE year ago… Before my eating disorder coming out party, only close friends and family knew of my time in treatment.…
This is the symbol of eating disorder recovery. The symbol of freedom. It stems from the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) and serves as a sign of hope for so many struggling and a sign of freedom for those in recovery. Before I found recovery, I would doodle the symbol, but never show anyone because I was ashamed of it. I felt I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve to say I had an eating disorder because I wasn’t sick enough. Then…
We recently sold our house and are scheduled to move into our new home in one month. As you can imagine, the packing pandemonium has begun…or at least the packing procrastination. I really excel in procrastination, like, I’m truly gifted in the art of delay. The idea of packing up our entire home (albeit a small one) is overwhelming. So I cope by procrastinating. I find myself getting sidetracked in the tops of closets finding random pictures and long lost…
**Disclaimer: This blog contains foul three letter language that may not be suitable for all readers. Parental discretion advised.** I woke this morning feeling F-A-T. FAT. Insert therapist voice: “Fat is not a feeling, McCall.” Today, I was positive the therapy gods were WRONG. Fat was definitely a feeling. I needed for it to be a feeling today. I just wanted to listen to my eating disorder voice so I could pick my body apart and start plotting a Monday…