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Recovery Stories

Amy Medina -- aka. SFishy

May, 2000

After almost ten years of living with anorexia, purging anorexia and compulsive exercise, I started my own recovery at the same time I built the very first generation of this website -- November, nineteen-ninty-five (do any of your remember the site from back then?).

At that point MrFishy and I had been together close to two years. I had been honest with him about the ED from the start, while all the time both my physical and mental state continued to deteriorate. Our daughter was so little and I would catch MrFishy checking on my breathing in the middle of the night... and the reality started to set in. I could die from this. I did not want to desert my family -- I wanted to be HAPPY with ME -- I wanted my daughter to grow up HAPPY with herself -- and I wanted to experience life. I made the decision to truly live.

It was tough getting started. The benefit I had was that I am a persistant b*tch -- when I decide to do something I do it. Of course, I was scared... and I think my biggest fear was who would I be without the eating disorder and would I like that person?

As I've mentioned many times before, I believe the process of recovery is a very personal choice. To me going inpatient was not an option... I did not want to leave my husband and kids for any extended length of time. We also could not afford to have me out of work. The first thing I did was go to my family physician and tell him "I have anorexia and want some help." Those are the words I said. He was an idiot, not supportive at all, scurried from the room like I had declared some contaminating condition that would rub off on him, but returned with the phone number for my insurance company's mental health evaluation hotline.

I called them. They were rude. The man wanted me to explain to him "how exactly is it that you think you have anorexia" and I would not validate his ignorance with an answer -- I just said "look, your company provides mental health care coverage so just give me the number of therapists and we'll let them make the determination whether I have a problem or not."

I got the numbers. I bounced around to a few therapist, seeing some in person, talking to some on the phone. I was getting discouraged and the whole while, relying more on my ED. FINALLY, by the grace of some higher power, or even luck I saw a TV commercial (of all things) for a therapy center local, one that advertised the treatment of EDs. I called them and talked to the man who would become one of the best therapists I've ever had.

I went to therapy once a week for over a year. My therapist was wonderful with an ecclectic approach -- allowing me to use my art and poetry as one way to express some of the more difficult issues. He would give me homework assignments. He would ask me to analyze myself. Above all else, he also saw straight through my bullshit and my ability to rationalize everything -- and he did not let me get away with it.

In the first four months things got worse before they began to get better. I was bombarded with issues I didn't feel ready to face and, of course, fell back on the ED as my security blanket. My therapist was aware of this the entire time and never made me feel a failure because of it. He suggested hospitalization at one point, but I refused (because of the same reasons above) and he allowed me to make that choice (expressing all the while that he felt I was really playing with my life, but that it was within my power to do something about it).

We worked on self-esteem. We worked on alternative ways to cope. He worked on getting me to feel again by helping me through talking and crying and yelling about my issues. He taught me to see the difference between responsibility and blame. He guided me towards truly believing that it wasn't my fault that life happened the way it did.

I don't want to go into details about why he and I had a "falling out"... but after that year and a half I had to make the decision to not see him anymore. We basically had a large argument about something that didn't even pertain to my treatment (it had to do with some work I did for him)... I will say this... it was because of him that I was strong enough to say "Enough. It's time for me to move on" and to not blame myself for it. I will forever be thankful for the guidance I received from him through our sessions.

During all this time I received tremendous support from MrFishy. When I had first told him it was so hard for him to know how to be supportive and he did all the cliche things a lot of "outsiders" do. I'm not going to talk from his perspective because I can't -- but I have asked him to post here too and he can share his thoughts on all this.

As I began the site (at the same time as I had decided to recover) MrFishy began to learn a lot more about what EDs are truly about. It helped me to be helping others and it taught me about making a separation between my own problems and those of everyone else... it's wonderful to want to help others, but not as a way to escape your own problems. I also learned that the best way I could help others suffering was to recover myself!

My goal in recovery, because of my thoughts on Eating Disorders, was to build my self-esteem... to learn to love myself completely and be comfortable being me. My attitude was that once I could do that the behaviors would fall into place... and this has been my experience. Of course, I also needed to find new ways to cope... new ways of stress managements... better ways to communicate my needs... and how to validate my own emotions... and as I began to do all this the need I had to rely on food/starvations/exercise/purging seemed to slowly fade. I will stress with strong emphasis... a LOT of people must stabalize their physical health first, so intially there may have to be a strong focus on the food and behaviors -- remember... everyone is different and there is no "one right way" to recover.

So what am I doing now? Well I sort-of left a gap there didn't I? After I left my first therapist I took a break for a while. I focused on me in other ways doing workbooks and reading self-help books... doing my self-affirmations everyday. (My favorite books that helped? Here's two - Don't Diet, Live It!" by Andrea Lobue and Marsea Marcus... Sarks Playbook and Journal by Sark). I went to some self-help workshops (like those given my John Bradshaw). I started to focus on doing things I love or learning new things (like how to sing!) I journalled... I talked to MrFishy... I stuck close to my support network of friends during rough times when I needed to... I learned to rely on myself and positive ways to cope... I took strides to move forward and felt and lived. For the first time in my life I started to feel like a real person, and one I actually liked!

LOL... I also shaved my head!

I went back to another therapist after about a year... I did some work with her but felt like she actually wanted me to be sicker than I was... like she wasn't ready for anyone with any self-worth... so I didn't stay very long. About two months. At that point I made a decision that it was time for the next step for me. I emphasize "for me" because we are all so different and lots of people stay in therapy a lot longer than I did... and that is ok! Keep in mind that my whole life I've been in and out of therapy for various reasons (my parents made me go in highschool a few times... and I'd been to marriage counseling/divorce counseling with my first husband).

So I say again... what am I doing now?

I am now fully recovered. What I mean by this: when there are stressful times in my life I don't rely on food, lack of food, purging or exercise to get me through it, and even if my mind does go a mile a minute I've learned how to slow it down a bit, and cope with things one step at a time. I have learned to accept the ups and downs of life, and to realize that they are all part of the human experience, not something I deserve to beat myself up over. My feelings count. I am worth it.

... and the other good stuff?

My eating is normal... I eat two healthy meals a day, at least two snacks and drink a can of ensure every other day (for vitamins and my bones). I don't worry about my weight and on a day-to-day basis I can look in the mirror and love what I see (without trying to sound conceited - hehe). I can walk into a room full of people, a restaurant, a business meeting, and feel good about myself and the things that will come out of my mouth. I can make decisions without having to ask twenty-seven people first if they think it's the right one. I can talk about how I feel. I can tell someone I'm pissed at them. I can say "I'm down today" or "I'm having one of those days so could you give me some space". I can set healthy boundaries for myself -- "you can't talk to me that way!" -- and I can say "no" when people ask me to do something for them and I really just can't do it. I can go clothes or food shopping and enjoy it. I eat anything I want and enjoy it and I don't not eat because I'm punishing myself or getting back at someone or because I'm having a bad day. I can take healthy risks and try new things -- because even if I don't succeed at it, it's ok (right now I'm learning to play the drums)!!!! I can wear what I want, wear my hair the way I want it, do the things I want to do without fear of judgement! I don't do it for anyone else... I do it for me -- and if ya don't like it, lump it!

Most of all...
I'm proud of me.

WE CAN ALL MAKE IT!

May, 2001

I was recently asked on the bulletin board this question: How did you decide that you had made the transition from RecoverING to RecoverED?

I was in recovery for about five years. My goal was to be completely recovered. As I moved through the whole process, using the ED as a coping tool was less and less an option. As I worked to become closer to "recovered" my self-esteem shot up, my self-confidence rose and my self-doubts disappeared -- these were all things I consciously worked on for a while, and as time went on, they became less and less work, until they were no longer daily challenges to work at.

The absolute last thing I worked on was body image. I had decided that for me, I would not consider myself fully recovered until negative body image was no longer an issue. I did a lot of this work in the last year of my recovery. Getting rid of clothes that didn't fit, looking at myself in the mirror every day and telling myself "hey, you're just right for YOU," assuring myself that my mood has nothing to do with how I perceive myself -- a reflection is just a reflection. Is my body perfect? NO -- but it doesn't have to be.

Finally, there came a time and awareness that everything just wasn't work anymore. I truly didn't give a shit what other people thought about me, or the way they might judge me -- nor did I believe I needed to have "this type" of body -- my body is just right for me. I eat when I'm hungry and my mood doesn't dictate it (I enjoy the process of eating! I can't even imagine NOT enjoying it). It is mearly a pleasurable way to fuel my body, and that's the way it should be.

I considered myself recoverED when I realized that body image, self-confidence, and self-esteem were no longer issues. I proclaimed I was recoverED the day I could truly say I love me for me, the whole package, inside and out, no matter how I'm feeling (whether happy, sad, angry, etc.), and no matter what my weight is. I proclaimed I was recoverED when I could accept that making mistakes is okay and it doesn't mean people won't like me, and when I realized that it's okay if not everyone likes me. I proclaimed I was recoverED when I coped with life and emotions in healthy ways, when I realized that food has nothing to do with my emotions or sense of self-worth, nor should it.

I proclaimed I was recoverED when all the above just came naturally, after five years of hard work... work well worth it.

And I'm proud of me.

okay... enough story-telling from me for now. If you go to the Who We Are section on the site, you can read some of my poetry and more about MrFishy and me.

Read MrFishy's story too!

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