When my anorexia was at its worse I was living and working in beautiful Northern California. I worked for AmeriCorps and spent my days teetering between consciousness and something else that I still do not fully understand. I was kept alive each day by a group of curious, loving, and brilliant first graders. The education world would call them “high risk students”, which they were, but really what they were was so much more. I lived with 3 roommates--one of which who became a best friend for life. My family advocated for me and my friends in CA and beyond fought for my life alongside them. This time was dichotomous in so many ways. As I was becoming increasingly ill, I was finding forever friendship and my career and calling.
Fast-forward to today and I often find myself reminiscing about those days and the physical home that we lived in. I decided that I wanted to see what the place that we lived in looked like again, so naturally I turned to Zillow. As I found this place that carries so many memories, so much light, and so much horror… I was overwhelmed by emotion. The Zillow report said that our former home is a multi family dwelling, so I asked my dear friend and then roommate about it. She informed me that when we lived there the home had an apartment above the garage and stairs on the side of the home to access it…which I have absolutely NO recollection of. She continued to say that somebody lived there while we did. Again, I have zero memory of any such thing. This example, though not terribly essential information is analogous of so many things that are blurred from that period of my life.
In this moment of confusion I am yet again reminded about just how much anorexia takes from those it impacts. In this instance, it took my brain and my memory. As a 31-year-old woman today who was 23 at the time, I cannot believe that I have lost entire memories and entire moments in time. I felt bad about this for about 35 seconds, before thinking about those who it takes much more from. 1 in 10 people with anorexia will die from their disease.
Recovery is the promise to never allow this disease to take from me again, and to never allow this disease to attack every bone, muscle, and cell of my body with destructive speed and intention again. I am taking back my memory, my brain, my bones, my heart, my hair, my spirit, my soul and every fiber of my being every day that I choose recovery. This experience of forgetting entire pieces of my life, and then being given the chance to remember and experience them again is one that I am eternally grateful for and one that I will never take for granted.
This post and this work is dedicated to the life of Kelsey Lupien, and to all who have lost their lives at the helm of an eating disorder and the complications therein. I will fight tirelessly on behalf of your memory and your life.
Fast-forward to today and I often find myself reminiscing about those days and the physical home that we lived in. I decided that I wanted to see what the place that we lived in looked like again, so naturally I turned to Zillow. As I found this place that carries so many memories, so much light, and so much horror… I was overwhelmed by emotion. The Zillow report said that our former home is a multi family dwelling, so I asked my dear friend and then roommate about it. She informed me that when we lived there the home had an apartment above the garage and stairs on the side of the home to access it…which I have absolutely NO recollection of. She continued to say that somebody lived there while we did. Again, I have zero memory of any such thing. This example, though not terribly essential information is analogous of so many things that are blurred from that period of my life.
In this moment of confusion I am yet again reminded about just how much anorexia takes from those it impacts. In this instance, it took my brain and my memory. As a 31-year-old woman today who was 23 at the time, I cannot believe that I have lost entire memories and entire moments in time. I felt bad about this for about 35 seconds, before thinking about those who it takes much more from. 1 in 10 people with anorexia will die from their disease.
Recovery is the promise to never allow this disease to take from me again, and to never allow this disease to attack every bone, muscle, and cell of my body with destructive speed and intention again. I am taking back my memory, my brain, my bones, my heart, my hair, my spirit, my soul and every fiber of my being every day that I choose recovery. This experience of forgetting entire pieces of my life, and then being given the chance to remember and experience them again is one that I am eternally grateful for and one that I will never take for granted.
This post and this work is dedicated to the life of Kelsey Lupien, and to all who have lost their lives at the helm of an eating disorder and the complications therein. I will fight tirelessly on behalf of your memory and your life.