How Much I Lost (Losing more than weight to anorexia)

Anorexia, a Disease of Loss 

Anorexia is a disease of loss- and NOT only of weight, while it is usually the most apparent. So often the severity of one’s disorder is measured according to this one marker, the number of pounds shed, the digits on the scale, the steepness of the drop on a chart.

However, the loss caused by anorexia is so much more than weight.

It is a loss of health, a decay of the body: loss of hair, loss of bone density, loss of muscle mass, loss of menstrual cycle, loss of hunger signals and loss of metabolic processes, among other bodily systems and functions.

But more devastating than this internal damage, losses that can be observed and measured in a doctor’s office, is a loss that is not so simply quantified.

It is the loss of the intangible, invaluable things that make life worth living; love, connection, and meaning.

December 2015— a Christmas full of fights and tears and dishonesty thanks to ED (Don’t be fooled by the smile)

More devastating than how an eating disorder damages the body, is how it destroys relationships, leaving them irrevocably changed- even as one's physical body begins to heal.

The rock bottom in my story was NOT a number on the scale, or a size, or a hospital stay.

It was the despair that permeated every cell of every organ in my body when I was forced to realize how much life I had wasted, and how much love I had lost.

It still plays through my head like an old film reel, the people I hurt, the friends I alienated, and the loved ones I drove away when anorexia was the operating system of my brain-

-a fear of food and a drive for thinness that burned bridges, closed doors, and severed connections. 

Anorexia caused me to lose the one person I never thought I would, the one who inspired me to choose recovery in the first place. 

But that’s what eating disorders do.  They suck the life out of you.  They take fat and then flesh and then muscle, and then they take your love, your compassion, your personality. 

It’s like there is a terrorist in your brain holding a gun to your head, demanding that you do as they say.  It seems as there is no choice but to listen. 

It’s only well into recovery, that the curtain is pulled back and you realize the terrorist was nothing more than malfunctioning brain chemistry and a smoke machine.  

My birthday, 2015. Did not have a bite of cake made lovingly by my sister.

Once I had gained weight, I thought I was almost done recovery. The truth is, I had only just begun.

Restoring weight is just the preparatory stage, like suiting up before a game. Once the equipment is on then is the time to do battle; to regain the trust and faith of the people who I hurt when I was dancing with demons.

I was terrified of gaining weight. But there came that day that I hit rock bottom, and I realized that the only thing more terrifying than losing anorexia, and the body it created, was losing any more connection than I already had.

And so I committed to connection; to never prioritize anything over the people I love, and to push myself to be open to new opportunities and experiences, regardless of any fear or shame or discomfort that tempted me to revert back to old anorexic behaviours.

While I am firmly in recovery now, I still abide by this commitment, leaning into discomfort and disobeying fear, until it no longer holds power. I will continue do my dharma, letting go of all outcomes. I have committed to this process even though I still don't know that all of my relationships will ever fully recover.

Brother’s birthday 2018. Had cake, and more importantly, had fun.

However, if I ever gave up on my commitment to full recovery for myself, my circle of friends and loved ones would only grow smaller, and any future relationship I enter  will never stand a chance. 

As I move further away from my past with Anorexia, and more fully into recovery, I find myself creating more space for the people and experiences and values worth pursuing.

I am in a process of unlearning, unfolding like a piece of origami, crease by crease, until I am nothing but a sheet of paper.

It's a vulnerable state to be, shapeless and flimsy in the wind. But it's upon this blank page that I may write out the rest of my story, and rediscover my true shape or form that at its essence is happy, healthy, and free. 

What are you losing out on in your life? Is what you are pursuing worth the sacrifice?

Stay true, and be fearless,

-Jordan

xoxo