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It is officially that time of year again! National Eating Disorder Awareness Week!
This is the time of year when I get super excited on the inside because I get to openly discuss what eating disorders are all about and how to get help (since they are a very real and serious illness).
but.
I also get super scared to openly discuss my life problems (since everyone has things they struggle with and mine are not any better or more exciting than anyone else's) because even though I am better now and have come to terms with most of my childhood traumas I still have to accept the fact that I, Nicole Haroldsen, did indeed struggle with an eating disorder. It was not a phase, a fad diet, or just some teenage troubles as some have tried to tell me. It was real, it was horrid, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy (luckily I do not have one, but you get the gists of it).
I have been contemplating writing this post out for quite a while.. yet, for some reason when I think about what I could write that would maybe help inspire others to keep pushing forward in their struggles I come up blank. I mean I could sit here (in my very cozy dorm bed lol) and tell you how it has been so awesome to recover and how I LOVE it! But it hasn't always been this way.
I started out my recovery (back in August 2013) hoping to get through my intensive outpatient treatment as quick as possible so I could go back to school with my friends and water polo. Secretly awaiting the end of treatment just so I could go back to over exercising and obsessively restricting my food intake. Obviously that is not what happened..
In fact, recovery has been like this crazy maze.. You start out not knowing which way to turn- whether to trust the doctors and your parents who insisted on the fact that you are too thin, or to trust the voice inside your head that tells you, you are still not good enough. To many of you the choice would be obvious, but to me and to anyone who has struggled with an eating disorder the choice is not quite so simple. When I first started out my treatment, I just wanted to get over the the whole thing and be done. I remember one day I was so determined to get "fixed" fast that one time in the middle of the night I woke up with what I thought would be the plan that fixed it all. I told myself that I was going to look myself in the mirror and say "I am beautiful" out loud ten times and that if I could do that, that I would be "cured". As I quietly made my way to the bathroom I closed the door and turned on the light. By this time anxiety was just rushing through my body. I remember looking up at my reflection and getting ready to say "I'm beautiful" when tears started streaming down my face. I managed to mumble out "I'm beautiful" three times when I angrily turned off the lights and went back to my room. You see, not listening to the thoughts that constantly tell you to lose weight and to be thinner- to be perfect- would mean (at least to me) that I was a failure, a disappointment to anyone who knew me.
As time went on (As I continued to go through this maze) I realize that wasn't true at all. That it was okay if I ate slice of pizza or if I had a cup of orange juice. Many of you may think of this as ridiculous or weird (I know I would, in fact before I had developed an eating disorder I remember reading about them and thinking to myself, "Man, these girls are crazy not to like food") but then I became one of those girls and its not weird or ridiculous.
It's real and scary.
I remember one time (when I was deep into my disorder) I had come home from seminary and my mom had made a very nice breakfast for my siblings and I. She had made pancakes, bacon, had orange juice for us and fruit- the whole nine yards. My siblings were so excited, I not so much.. I tried to downplay the anxiety and stress I felt of just looking at my food by playing with it but my mom is not one to let things slide. After a few comments from both of my parents to start eating and such I broke. Out of nowhere I just broke down and cried in the middle of our family breakfast because I could not eat a pancake or drink the juice.
Since then it has been an uphill battle.. There are many times when I still feel like I'm in a maze running into wall after wall. It's not easy and quite frankly there are times when I get so frustrated over the fact that it is still so hard to fight this that I am ready to give up and not fight anymore. Luckily, I have been blessed with some really amazing people that when those times hit I know I can turn to them and they will be there to help me push through.
So to answer the question, many have asked me over the last month- no, recovery has not been easy but it has been worth it. There are days when I look at myself in the mirror and want to crawl back in to bed but there are days (most days now actually) where I look in the mirror and think I really like myself, I am beautiful. And to me that is a huge accomplishment in of itself.
Lastly, I just want you all to know that the reason I am so open about this is not because I am seeking attention or praise on how far I've come. An eating disorder is known as a silent illness since many people who struggle with it tend to keep it to themselves, I did for four years prior to starting my recovery and boy was that not fun.. Thus, by talking about it, it helps me and hopefully helps others realize that they're not alone in their struggles. That hope is always there.
Smile Always!
P.S- If you managed to read all that and have ANY question about anything eating disorder related or not feel free to email me (nhrose@sbcglobal.net) or talk to me in person! I am typically very open about anything if you just ask :)