Archive for the ‘Dear Diary’ Category

When I began to recover from an eating disorder, I often found myself in close company with anger. I felt I was thrown into a pool with no instructions on how to swim. There were many moving pieces around me,..

It’s a common nightmare; one you may experience upon reviewing your physical training and racing schedule…. You’re in a race or being chased — swimming from a big fish, fleeing from a big bear or sprinting towards a big finish...

Almost three years have passed since I began to recover from anorexia nervosa. In July 2020, my 65th birthday was coming up and I could not remember a time without eating disorder thoughts and behaviors. Eating disorders are devious and..

Today is what I’ve come to call a disorder day—an unpleasant, often unpredictable, pill-popping, anxiety-ridden, hold fast to whatever sane or stable thing that you can, just want to get through it kinda day. For anyone immune to these dis-orderly..

I am writing from Bright, a town as beautiful as its name in north-east Victoria, Australia. I am on a three-day getaway with my English Staffordshire Terrier, Maisie. The two of us. We are staying in a delightful studio apartment..

Lying on the scanning table, my mind wanders, mentally running through tasks to complete before heading home. After comfortably (obliviously) shielding myself with denial, my default for 21 years, lying on this table is a mundane task. Blood tests, ultrasounds,..

The scariest part of having an eating disorder is the next step. This next step may be any major life shift. For me, it was university. I did not attend school during my junior year of high school because I was..

I love to participate in online eating disorder surveys, especially those inviting ‘lived experience’ to be shared. I haven’t always felt this way about sharing my illness story, so what has changed? Firstly, I have been with narrative mentor, Dr..

Utopia: a place of ideal perfection especially in laws, government, and social conditions (Merriam-Webster Dictionary) In sixth grade, my class was asked to write a paper entitled Utopia. The year was 1966-67, when the United States was embroiled in the..

I never thought that at 16 years old I would forget who I was. I want to emphasize the word ‘forget’ because I did not choose to transform into someone I could not recognize. I did not choose to have..