A year ago – I was given a death sentence.
I had gone to the doctor because I just wasn’t healing after I had fallen. They spent about 15 minutes trying to get a blood pressure and couldn’t….when they finally did it, was alarmingly low 88/56. I asked my doctor if that could be related to my eating disorder? Her answer was, “Yes, absolutely. You and I are going to be having a very different conversation within a few weeks. We will be discussing end of life options.” I was not really shocked – I should have been but I was so numb and wasn’t feeling anything deeply. I left and went to the next doctor to have a pre-op discussion and on the way Jim and I spoke and told him what she had said. He insisted, I tell the pre-op doctor about everything. I did and the surgery was postponed due to the fact the pain meds would cause my heart rate to drop even lower and I would most likely die on the table in her office. I was devastated; I wanted so badly to be pain free.
The week before, Jim, realized that the eating disorder was fully active. I couldn’t remember simple things, I was losing my hair at an alarming rate, my weight was fluctuating, I was cold all of the time, my skin looked awful and I was unable to perform well with my workouts. I was slowly killing myself and it took this wonderful man to see it and call me on it. He told me something that impacted me deeply. He said, “I will be here and help you to work thru it and to fight this but I will not hold your hand and watch you die.” I could only look him in the eye and see the truth that was there. You see I was willingly taking my life and betraying him and our love. I was betraying my children. I was betraying my family.
I was floating in the tub crying, remembering as the different things in my life came flooding back to me that aided the disorder on its destructive path….Jim came in with a plate of bacon. I sat up and nibbled on a few pieces and we talked a little more. After he left, I settled down into the water and was floating again when the question came into my head. “Do you want to die?” As I lay there pondering this very real life and death question, I realized I wanted to live, I wanted to LIVE! I wanted to see my children marry and to become a grandparent…I wanted to experience all that life has to offer with the man who was in my life and offering to be my partner. I wanted to give to the world…I wanted to take trips and to do and be well!
The action plan came together…you see I am what is called chronic eating disordered. I have been active with my disorder since I was 16 years with thoughts since I was 13; I had moments of “health”. During my first marriage I was so distraught and in pain that I lost 20 pounds in roughly 4 months. After the divorce I felt as if I was regaining my life, I put on 10 pounds and declared victory over my ED. Yet, I did not address and heal the root cause of the ED! The action plan in 2012 included, no workouts – my body had NOTHING to give, daily logging of every single food to get to a minimum of 1200 calories….those 1200 calories were so challenging. I had to count everything in the beginning…ketchup, lettuce and even drink calories helped me get there…I loved margarita Thursday’s, that was an easy 400 calories! Slowly but surely I was able to replace my drink calories with food calories. I had to take supplements to help with my digestion – you see not eating ended up causing it to hurt so much when I would eat. I started seeing my Uncle who is a natural health practioner. And I got real honest with my therapist. I also came clean with my family and a friend and those people helped to hold me accountable. Eating disorders like other addictions thrive in secrecy.
With all of that support, I started ticking off the months of recovery. At one month, I celebrated still being alive. At six months, I was in shock….so this is how a body is supposed to feel and I was able to start working out, lightly. At 8 months…I was in a good place of realization that as long as I paid attention daily, yes, daily, I stood a good chance of managing this beast. January, I celebrated one year of recovery. I am beyond thankful for my support team. I owe my very life to the love of my life – he saved me when I didn’t think I was worth saving and helped me to see that the good, the bad, the ugly made me and I’m really OK. I’m just Crystal and I’m good with that. My Uncle helped pick up the pieces and worked on putting the puzzle of me together. My doctor’s honesty was painful but needed. My therapist helped me to see that me turning on myself wasn’t going to hurt anyone but me…that I needed to develop better coping skills….and I continue to adjust those as needed.
I wish I could say that I haven’t slipped…that stress and fear doesn’t play a role in me not eating but that would be a lie. But those days are far and few in between. Now in times of conflict, stress, and pain, I count it a victory that I eat in spite of the issues! Every now and then I am reminded with how the eating disorder is still active in my mind like when I went to the store to buy work-out clothes and I brought into the dressing room, a size that was 2 sizes larger than what is accurate. It took me an hour trying on clothes to finally pick out the correct size and good fit. Sometimes walking by a mirror or into a building I get a glimpse of my true size and shape of my body and it surprises me….
I know; I can never let my guard down. I know; I can never think I have this killer beat. But as someone once told me, “There is no try, there is only do”. So that means every day I plan what I eat, I am aware of when I need to eat, I listen to my body and feed it what it needs.
I am learning to love myself…and that is worth celebrating.
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