Last night, I cut up some old collages I had made in treatment, and fit them into frames.  I read a couple of homework assignments that were stuck in my drawing pad.  Wow, I have come a long way (baby).  I can’t believe it has been a full year since returning to work and leaving intensive treatment.

Treatment  was the best thing to happen to me.  I was in a desperate place back then, and the only solution was to shell out a good amount of money and go to residential, partial hospital, and intensive outpatient therapy.  I am a blessed, blessed, blessed individual to have that kind of money at my disposal (thanks partially to my shellshocked parents) and to have an employer who allowed up to four months of medical leave at full pay.

Residential treatment attacked the purging and (lack of) eating.  Though insurance only allowed me to stay ten days, I needed that exact amount of time to prove to myself that I could effectively live a life eating an adequate amount of food without purging.  I had never gone that long before.  It was hell, but an amazing time of growth.

PHP (Partial Hospital Program) continued to attack the food and purging, while attempting to get at the root of why I had an eating disorder.  My relationship with my parents was addressed time and again.  I routinely was threatened with being put back in residential because I could not last but a few days without purging.  Finally, I got through a weekend without eliminating my food prematurely, and THAT gave me the confidence.  It was my breakthrough.  I suddenly felt that I could actually recover.

I left my residential and PHP program after a total of two months, and returned home.  I attended an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) nearby for 4 hours every weekday and some Saturdays.  The rest of the time was devoted to being acclimated with living without an eating disorder.  I cooked.  I ate.  I exercised much less than I wanted to.  This rhythm helped me prepare for the impending “real world” which would include work.  When I was in program, we worked on my self esteem, prior traumas, and what work would look like.  How would I eat?  Where would I eat?  What would I say if coworkers noticed my weight gain?

Each stage of my treatment was necessary… for me.  Some people I know only did one of these types of treatment.  Others did only two.  Still others found recovery with weekly dietician and therapy appointments.

The key is to be open and honest with oneself.  If I’ve learned anything in the recent weeks, it’s that personal recovery is absolutely essential.  Living with any speck of an eating disorder is no way to live.  Improved energy, physical health, clarity, self esteem, and meaningful relationships are only some of the fruits of recovery, and recovery is only possible with at least some level of treatment.

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