My first step toward eating disorder recovery
I remember the first intro call I had with an eating disorder treatment center. It was one of my proudest moments in recovery.
The first call was over two years ago. I was a sophomore in college, fresh in the fall semester. I scheduled the call during an art history lecture and excused myself to the barren hallway for the conversation.
I released a trembling breath and glanced at my phone buzzing in my hand. Thinking back, I can still feel my heart beating against my chest like it’s about to break.
A million thoughts raced through my mind.
What if I say something wrong?
What if I’m too sick for the center or not sick enough?
How did my anorexia nervosa get to this point?
What would my life look like after the call?
After another shaky breath, I brought the phone to my ear and answered the call.
I stumbled through the conversation and didn’t enroll in the treatment center. But that first intro call proved I was willing to dig deeper and open to the possibility of treatment.
For the longest time, I’d resisted.
I feared what treatment meant for me and my eating disorder. I’d followed its rules, engaged in its restrictions and exercised at its beck and call for months. I was on the brink of medical instability when I realized I couldn’t sustain the demands of my anorexia nervosa.
I was afraid of the change treatment promised. It felt overwhelming and impossible, and I didn’t know where to start. And while it may seem like a small start, nothing felt larger than taking the call and speaking with the eating disorder assessment coordinator.
After the first call, I researched one eating disorder treatment center at a time. I spoke with trusted loved ones just about the possibility of further treatment. I scheduled numerous intro calls and examined my options.
I was scared but hopeful.
It was the first time I felt like I could manage further treatment and consider eating disorder recovery possible. I enrolled in a treatment center a few weeks after the initial intro call. Enrollment was such a pivotal moment in my recovery.
I was still afraid. If I could go back to pretreatment Cearra, here’s what I would do.
I’d hug her.
I’d tell her the fear lessens with time and care from your treatment team.
I’d tell her the constant disordered thoughts eventually quiet in her mind.
I’d tell her she’s so much more than a number on a scale.
I’d tell her recovery is possible, and I’m proof.
I’d tell her I’d enroll in a treatment center time and time again if it meant being where I am – who I am – now.
I’d tell her the tools and perspective learned in treatment are worth all her fear and hesitancy.
I’d hold her and give her hope.
That’s what I needed most in my eating disorder recovery: hope. And after the first intro call, I’d finally found it.
This content is reflective of the author’s lived experiences. It is intended for informational purposes only . These pieces do not provide medical advice, nor are they substitutes for professional medical diagnosis or treatment.