It doesn’t surprise me any more when I see holiday posts on eating disorder recovery that talk about sticking with a meal plan and having an action plan in place for dealing with difficult family situations and expectations. Some of the premises still surprise me – even from my vantage point, while it seems promising that 8 steps can help support recovery during the season is intended to say, “Hey, you can beat this. Not only can you beat it, but it’s easier than you think,” especially early on, those steps can seem insurmountable. Do I believe that anyone who is driven towards recovery can make it through, unscathed? Yes. Absolutely yes.

But I should also point out that there really isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to recovery any more than there’s a one-size-fits-all approach to choosing a college major, sticking out a tough job, pursuing a talent or a dream, or even getting out of debt. There are some similarities, but the path isn’t linear.

And when I go into the holiday season with my family, where lying/denying/hiding is still a requirement, I’m particularly in tune to the challenges that some of us face. While I fully recognize that family based treatment is ideal in some families, I know that it’s not in mine – and it frustrates me more than a little bit when I see its advocates telling others who have had crazy family scenarios told that family is always the solution just as much as it does when I see the lists of how families are to blame for eating disorders because they’re all the same.

Here’s my take: If we were all the same, if everyone had the same background, then we wouldn’t still be looking for cures. We’d know what works in all cases. And it would work for all individuals. But we’re not there. We can read about how one person undergoing treatment comes out and maintains recovery for a lifetime while another is in and out of treatment for another 5 years and another, tragically, never gets to have another try at life and never sees the outside of the facility again.

It’s my damage. I know this. I’m ranty and cranky. I’m tired and frustrated. I have a lot going on. But one of the things on my mind these days is how much easier life could be if everyone were able to own their own perceptions, to understand that others have different realities, and that everyone is trying to make it through as best they know how. We can try to support one another along the paths when we share them and we see that someone needs somebody to help them carry the weight of their burdens. We can ask how we can help rather than assuming that support should come in one specific format or another. We can simply try to be there.

For me, Thanksgiving always brings about a weird reflection on the last 21 years of my life. 21 years ago, my parents had just found out about my eating disorder. They decided to drive me across state lines for treatment, and they told me that, during Thanksgiving dinner, I was not to let anyone in the extended family know what was going on. It was something to be hidden away and dealt with. That’s probably part of why, 5 years later, I was preparing to join them for Thanksgiving once again, and the reason that I dreaded the trip was only marginally the result of my anorexia; it had a lot more to do with the fact that the following Monday, I was planning to check myself into the hospital for treatment.

Every year, something about this kicks me in the gut. Every. Single. Year.

Over the last couple of weeks, instead of just letting myself feel kind of “off” about it, I’ve been trying to identify what it’s going to take to change it. I’ve been trying to come up with some sort of solution that says, “this is the last year that the holiday season is going to be marked by loss, angst, and the impact of an eating disorder.” The challenge is that, with my family, with the patterns that we all fall into time and time again, and with the way that life has played out for me, I don’t think that it’s possible not to mark time in this way.

But – and this is kinda a big thing – I don’t have to let thinking about it and recognizing it impact my enjoyment of the holidays, Thanksgiving included.

We all struggle to choose recovery. For some of us, it’s more of a struggle than others. We all struggle to find the right balance between participating and self-preservation. We all struggle with things that we’re hiding and things that we’re dying to share. We all have ourselves to consider, and we all have people who we love – even if we’re more quick to see the imperfections, to feel slighted, or to thing that others have better relationships than we do. But we don’t have to let those things get in our paths, slow us down, or stop us from living full lives in which we fully celebrate all that we’re thankful for.