When I decided to keep writing in this space, there were a lot of things that I’ll admit I hadn’t really thought out. I didn’t know if I’d talk much about myself and my experience. I wasn’t sure how much I’d interact with others in the recovery community (such as it is). I wasn’t convinced that I’d keep focusing on the things that I’ve read and the way that they get me thinking – even if they have nothing really to do with eating disorders, recovery, or creating a greater awareness of the struggles that so many of us share.
In other words, I decided that odds were good that I’d make it up as I went along. And, really, I think that’s a lot like the way that I keep living my life. Sure, I’ve got goals, and some strategies, and some hopes for the future, but a lot of the time – especially lately – life feels a lot like flailing.
As often happens for me though, I came across a blog post completely unrelated to my situation is a blog that I sometimes sort of follow (read as: a blog that a lot of people I follow on Twitter refer to frequently because of the networking circles they operate in that a life coach uses to market his business). The post that was getting some link love this morning was focused on ways in which disease can be a gift.
Now, before I go much further, let me state for the record:
- Much like I don’t believe that eating disorders can be caught – like the common cold – from viewing models or airbrushed ads, I don’t view it as something that’s worth experiencing for the lessons.
- I know that there are often debates about addictions, eating disorders, and other mental health conditions as diseases; what I believe and think is really irrelevant in this case and I’m not trying to tread into that territory.
That said, there were 10 “gifts” referenced by the post author as good that can come from being impacted by an illness. With regard to eating disorders, I suspect that there are very similar gifts that can be gained from entering the recovery process.
- When we stop letting our eating disorders determine our self worth and begin to focus on health, it’s easier to make time for ourselves – no longer over-committing to others or trying to find meaning simply in what we mean to others.
- Recovery allows us to re-set our priorities. Rather than believing that the only thing that matters is losing x pounds, or running some arbitraty distance, or. . . recovery allows us to see that there are friends who love us, healthy goals to achieve, and life that needs to be lived.
- Recovery gives us the opportunity to talk out long-buried issues and to grow from our past rather than always living in it.
- Recovery can teach us life skills. Whether it’s saying no to that one last thing, speaking up when we need support, using yoga/meditation/journaling to gain perspective, or something else altogether, identifying the simple steps needed to get through an anxiety attack, an evening with a large group of people, a moment, an hour, a week, or a year, the process of recovery enables us to draw on a variety of techniques and skills that – sometimes, at least – it seems like others don’t draw on.
- Recovery allows us the opportunity to construct life on our terms, and to see that there are times when we’re not going to have control – and that those things are okay.
- Recovery lets us learn more about the parts of ourselves that we’ve buried – and often, while this can be related to pain, it’s the strengths that we’ve given over that we’re able to reclaim.
These don’t line up perfectly with the points presented in the post, and that’s okay too. If you’re interested, again, you can find the post I’m referencing here and check it out for yourself. But here’s where the thinking aloud part comes in: What lessons have you learned from your eating disorder and as you’ve approached recovery?