My Choice

I am extremely excited to announce my participation in an event that I fully believe in, that will be happening here in Rochester this coming February. I was recently invited to speak at a Symposium that will be held at the University of Rochester, as part of a traveling exhibit highlighting Eating Disorders. It is a combination of voice and art which will demonstrate and help educate people as to exactly what an eating disorder entails and means and does not just to a person… but to their family.

I will also be giving my annual talk at the State University of New York at Geneseo on February 11th. We'd love to have you along.

Many of you know that I am all too familiar on this topic. I am in my thirteenth year of recovery from an active 10 year run of Bulimia Nervosa. Yes, do the math that is correct. I began to binge and purge when I was ten years old.

My son is seven years old. I was only three years older than he is right now when I began my journey on this almost deadly road. Truth is, I was one of the lucky ones.

As I said I am now in my thirteenth year of recovery, and just like every other process of recovery…. it is one day at a time. There are days when I feel absolutely free of this illness and then there are days where I feel I am still under its thumb.

Eating Disorders are a tricky business. They begin with weight and they morph into something very frightening and very difficult to understand. Look at an anorexic and tell them how thin they are, how can they not see that?

On the surface when an anorexic looks into the mirror she sees a different image than you do. But on the inside is where the illness is truly happening. There are issues of control, fear, etc.

Bulimics tend to look normal and they know that the binge / purge cycle is "disgusting". We know it's horrible. That causes us to become even more ashamed. To rid the feeling of shame we binge to stuff it down and then vomit…. to get rid of it.

For me Bulimia was a lot about getting rid of feelings that were too big for me. I had a terrible relationship with my older brother. He was physically and emotionally abusive towards me. Most brothers can be, but I learned to handle it very badly. I learned to soothe the feelings of pain by eating and then I learned to rid myself of those very same feelings, shame, pain, fear…. by throwing up. I did know that this was not the right way…. but it was the only way I knew at age ten. Age ten.

Because that was the way I dealt with life that became the way I dealt with life. From disappointments to elation…. this is what I did. From exams to swim meets to enduring adolescence. This is what I did.

My parents did everything they could to help me. But until I hit absolute rock bottom, until I had to stand on the edge of life and death…. all the help on earth wasn't going to save me. Save me from myself.

Believe me everyone on earth tried to help me. The harder they tried the sicker I became.

Over those years I did a lot of physical damage to my body. My teeth, my esophagus, my heart. every single day that I look in the mirror I can't believe I have finished four Ironmans.

13 years ago I was supposed to be dead. My senior year in high school I was voted most likely to be dead by 30… for this reason.

The doctors told me I would never have children and I would not be healthy enough to enjoy a healthy lifestyle. I would have problems forever they said.

So at the finish line of my fourth Ironman, my fastest Ironman, I thought about what they all told me. And here I was, a sub eleven finisher, a mother, a wife, able to fulfill a dream that most healthy people would never even try to embark on …….

The issues with my heart were one of the biggest catalysts to my recovery. The bigger inspiration to me were the children I met at the Roswell Park Cancer Institute. I was a volunteer there, trying to learn what nursing was like before I embarked on my nursing career.

One day I sat in the game room of the hospital. My job was to play with whoever came in. A boy who was eleven was sitting in there watching TV. His parents were working and he had cancer so long that it didn't affect him that he was alone. We got to talking and he told me he dreamt of being a hockey player. He dreamt of it every single night. He told me that he would close his eyes and he could feel the stick, he could smell the ice, and if he tried really hard, he could feel the wind as he skated towards the goal.

I realized that this boy would have given anything to be in my shoes. He would have done anything to only have an eating disorder and not cancer (which he did later die from). And I felt so selfish. I felt that I had created this illness within me, and this was something I could recover from, and this was something I…. in a way …. chose.

I think about that boy very often. I think about him when things feel like they are heading up hill. I think about him when I feel tired or sore, or even when I lean towards those old thoughts and feelings.

I don't believe I am someone special because I am recovering from an eating disorder. I put my own fingers down my throat by my own accord. No one diagnosed me with a disease that I didn't know was happening to me. I had opportunity after opportunity to get help. And I had refused.

The first day of the rest of my life came after a hospitalization 13 years ago. I felt absolute gratitude. Absolute gratitude. I vowed to the memory of this boy that I would earn what I was given. I'd earn this life.

I have tried very hard to do just that.

When I speak about my experiences I try to emphasize that we have help available to us. All we have to do is make the decision that we need to get better. We need to reach out our hands and take hold of the ones that have been reaching to us.

We need to stop making it complicated. We need to do what we do with everything else. Make a decision, put our head down and get better.

I imagine my little friend is skating away somewhere in the universe. Free of cancer, free of pain. I imagine he can now hold the stick and now head towards the goal.

And I realize that my recovery is my choice.

Thanks for stopping by.

Mary