The week of February 22-29 is National Eating Disorder Awareness week. It is a time when those in recovery celebrate the achievements they have made and try to raise awareness for those still struggling. 

When I was 12 I was diagnosed with an eating disorder. When I was 14 I decided I wanted to dedicate my life to helping others recover and to sharing my story. Now I am 17 and want nothing to do with this week, but how and why did I get here?

Something to know about people with eating disorders — it’s not about the food. It goes deeper than that. It is an obsession over something that fills the brain 24/7. For me, it was a boulder I carried around on my back. I let everyone know it was there. That is fine. The issue is that once I began treatment, the boulder was ripped away from me, and I was ironically too light to handle it. That’s when I turned all of those emotions and the negative thoughts into recovery.

It seemed to be going very well at first. I was happy, I had something to focus on, and most importantly I felt that I had a purpose. Another characteristic I have is being obsessive, which means I put all my heart into one thing. It’s almost like the saying, “When you fall, you fall hard, and with your whole heart on the table.” Except the obsession with recovery wasn’t love; it was a random time filler that gave me a reason to motivate and keep going. I also have a hereditary addictive personality disorder, which makes me want to devote my life to something. My dad, aunt, and grandfather have all spoken with me about how they managed dealing with substances and overworking due to this psychology that we share. In summary, I often find myself excessively doing one thing and then restricting another for a period with no in between. I chose recovery, but I didn’t just choose it; I devoted my life to it.

Imagine that someone just found out they were pregnant and they began to follow different websites and Instagram pages. That person goes to support groups and overall the pregnancy takes over their life. Well for me, it was like I was pregnant and my baby was the recovery process. 

It was consuming my life to the point where I would beg my mom drive me hours to attend NEDA (National Eating Disorder Association) walks in different states. We would wake up early, leave my sister and dogs at home, and drive 3-5 hours to attend a two-hour walk and then simply drive home. My obsession became unhealthy. There is no reason why I needed to go to these walks when there were walks coming up in my state. Some walks were only 25 minutes away, but those weren’t the ones we went to. I devoted myself to this, which resulted in going to a walk a week. I also engaged my friends with my mission. I would have 15 friends sign up for a walk with me and have them donate money and get apparel for my team. This might seem normal and like a good source of positive energy devoted to recovery. That being said, it’s all I talked about, all I planned for, and again the purpose of my life. One might say I wasn’t really living, just traveling and trying to make a life out of this sickness. Of course it got tiring for my mother, but that’s the catch. I started to believe I had no choice but to do these far-flung trips just to validate my recovery and honestly, my life.

Often, wacky plans slipped into my brain, and I just couldn’t say no. It didn’t stop at walks. It was events, emails, Instagram stories and posts, YouTube videos, interviews, and all I ever talked about. I began writing articles for NEDA. I was a walking advertisement for eating disorder recovery. But I was putting 100% of my heart into a mindset that wasn’t giving me anything back. It was an unhealthy relationship, because I needed that security.

This behavior of consumption and obsession does make sense because recovery became what the doctors took away from me — my eating disorder. Obsession was like a bridge that would protect me in the world at the time I needed that guard to be there and I had found it. 

The compulsion and obsessive behavior led to me resenting NEDA and not wanting to associate with that stage or even say to people that I had an eating disorder. I wanted people to forget who I was back then. It was as if I was intoxicated and just sobered up. It was toxic for me to be so obsessed and I needed to get away from that lifestyle. 

Now I wonder what I should do for this week. It is a struggle for me to acknowledge that part of me, yet I want to be proud of my identity. Eating Disorder awareness week continues to be a struggle for me, just for different reasons than most people with an ED. I am now spending the week thinking about others who might be struggling and hoping they find a path to recovery, even if it involves an unhealthy relationship with recovery.