Renfrew Center information

I've been meaning to write something about my experience at the Renfrew Center in Coconut Creek, Florida. Following my facebook reveal, I received a message from a friend asking about treatment at Renfrew. I thought I'd at least share my response and write detailed descriptions when I have more time. My response obviously does not include any information identifying my friend!

"It is SO good to hear from you. Please, please, please don't hesitate to contact Renfrew or any treatment program in your area if you even think you're possibly interested. The initial assessments are free and you're not tied to anything - just gather some information about your treatment options and go from there.

Renfrew was a great experience. I started in their outpatient program which met 3 evenings per week (with dinner) in December but that wasn't enough support for me, so I moved up to their day treatment program. It was 5 days a week from 8:30-3pm. That also didn't work for me because I found ways around the rules (I don't recommend this approach if you go for outpatient or a day program somewhere - just comply! they know what they're doing!). So I ended up in residential in Florida. They also have a residential program in Philadelphia - both are equally respected. Residential really saved my life, broke my bad habits, and taught me how to love food again. You are assigned a therapist and a dietitian and they work with you to develop a treatment plan.

Every day, there's breakfast, lunch, and dinner (all very reasonable portions designed to maintain weight) and for weight gain, you're given a certain number of snacks and/or supplements throughout the day. Refeeding is a scary and difficult process at first, but with the support of 40-50 other girls, it ends up being manageable. Everyone at Renfrew is really great and I promise it isn't as scary as it sounds. You go at your own pace and the other girls in the program are so wonderful. I was there for a month and most people tend to stay for 1 month up to 3-4 months, depending on their situation. Do you have any specific questions? I'm always happy to answer.

You are such a strong and inspirational young lady and I would love to help support you along the way. I know it will be difficult, but hang in there and know that you deserve recovery from this. You can do it! It's so much fun on the other side!"

Please don't hesitate to comment with any other questions!

Houston, we have recovery

So I made it through 27 days of residential treatment at the Renfrew Center of Coconut Creek, Florida. I didn't binge, run, overexercise, or drink for almost a month and I ain't dead yet. In fact, I feel better than I ever have. 

From now on, this blog will explain what real recovery from an eating disorder looks like and how beautiful life can be when you're actually living. 

It's a brand new chapter in my life and I'm so glad I've finally understood 26 isn't too late to start living. Happy Sunday, folks. 

Residential treatment starts in 3, 2, 1

Well folks, I'm elipticaling and running my little heart out at a random hotel in southern Florida before leaving for residential treatment this morning. I drove 10 hours alone yesterday and spent my last evening at the hotel alone, too, but managed to not binge and purge. Instead, I finished 16 miles last night and have put in another 10 before 8 am today. I weigh 95 pounds at 5'4. Residential has to work.

The most difficult part of this process will be losing my running capabilities and access to this blog. Don't worry though, I'm going to journal these 30 days away because what else do I have to do besides read the 15 books I brought while getting chubs?

This is going to be, hands down, the most difficult month of my 26 years thus far, but I'm resolved to make the most of it. I have too much life to live and too much to lose to waste it on calories, miles, numbers, calculations, and compensation. I can't wait to start really living so I'll see you folks on the flip side!

Plans

Plans are always just plans without action.

First, I planned to lose weight by not eating anything but cereal and fruit as a senior in high school. I planned to run 8 miles every day, in addition to intense soccer practices and tournaments for my competitive soccer team. I planned to avoid social situations and restaurants where eating is not avoidable. I planned to have control, be perfect, and look the part. After I succeeded in losing 20 pounds, reaching a goal weight of 104 right before college, I was skinny enough to raise some red flags around school and home, prompting my pursuit of thin even more.

In college, I planned to maintain my thin physique and even lost weight during my first semester as a freshman soccer player. 100. What I didn't plan for was the introduction of alcohol to my lifestyle. Alcohol took hold in a way I could have never anticipated, made me relax, and loosened my grip completely on controlling my diet and exercise. The more I drank, the less I cared. Until drinking because the norm and the feelings of fat, ugly, and out of shape set in.

What I also didn't plan for was learning how to purge. I learned to purge during college by trying it once. I was somewhat of a natural, or at least had the ability to purge food fairly easily. Having the wherewithall to purge changes your life forever. It provides a guaranteed sense of guilt for keeping anything down. This aspect of an eating disorder can make everything so much more complicated. You don't want to eat, but you know you can and have minimal consequences on weight - at the expense of heavy consequences on health and quality of life. Learning to purge set the stage for the rest of my life. I type this blog 7 years after learning to purge and the repetitive emptying of my stomach has resulted in an inability to hold anything down. I purge hands-free now, simply bending over and releasing. Try recovering from that, even if you want to.

I have always planned to start living my life without my horrifying habits and binding eating disorder. I've always thought I could shake it if I really and truly tried. In recent years, I have started to hate feelings of fear and anxiety that accompany every bite of food and obsession with burning calories through exercise. I desperately want to be like my friends and significant others, giving zero thought to planning meals, exercise, and calories. No more calculating and recalculating calories in and calories out. No more undereating, overdrinking, and obsessive exercise. No more obsession over deviations in life that cause deviation in plans.

I planned to get over my eating disorder in college as a Nutrition and psychology major, then as an intern studying to be a Registered Dietitian in graduate school, and then as a PhD student studying, you guessed it, Nutrition. But as life progresses through ebbs and flows, trials and tribulations, and constant stress and strain, the eating disorder and associated issues persist, flaring up and subsiding slightly, but always existing.

Sometimes, more often than not, facing your fears requires changing your plans. Day treatment was an attempt to change my plans by facing my fears, but it's not enough for me. On Monday, I start residential treatment for my eating disorder, exercise addiction, and alcohol abuse after relapsing heavily over the past week and a half. Today, I've run 19 miles, thrown up 4 times and keeping no food down, and weigh 98 pounds. I am ready for treatment and I'm ready to be healthy and happy. I am ready. I am terrified, but I am ready.

Time for change

I messed up again today. Again and again and again. I'm dizzy with regret and the sinking, empty feeling of hopelessness and wondering if this eating disorder will ever be past tense.

Last night, I went out with P to the local bar for dinner. I managed to eat the lettuce out of my salad and half of a plain black bean burger. Much more eagerly consumed though, were the 3 drinks, enabling the inevitable purge of said dinner. We had an excellent time and I met everyone at the bar, just like my old fun, funny, and infectious self. I was happy and animated despite messing up all day yesterday, something I've noticed as treatment has progressed. My mood is generally better and I'm overall happy, excited, and so much more stable, even if the day isn't perfect. We went to bed buzzed, early, and in love. I am lucky to have this wonderful person in my life and continue to remind him as much as possible. I would not be in treatment if it weren't for him.

I was already anticipating a rough day today in treatment today after resolving to give up my resistance and accept the consequences, but I could not bring myself to go to treatment this morning. I call the treatment center at 6:45 am. I can't come in today. I think I'm sick (again). I seriously doubt they're buying all of my sick days, but in my head, I see today and this weekend as a last resort before accepting treatment like I promised myself I would. P leaves for work at 9:00 am and it's off to Kroger I go, a premeditated binge and purge already ingrained in my mind. I woke up in the middle of the night several times, the consequence of too much to drink, and planned out exactly what I'd purchase - what I'd eat on the way to the store as a marker, what I'd eat on the 3 minute drive back.

In the future, I cannot plan binges and purges when left with an opportunity to be alone. Once I plan, it's incredibly more difficult to resist. Once I can envision the taste of the food I'll allow myself, there's no way in hell I won't eat and eat and eat. This is something I really need to figure out, make a plan in writing, and stick to it, if I ever want to recover 100%. Which I Do, So Badly.

Despite having the opportunity to binge and purge for an entire workday, I get lucky today and it's only two cycles. That is, however, two days of binging and purging in a row, a huge deviation from my week-free streak. After it's over, I take a nap, full of nothing but Powerade Zero and a drinking and purging hangover. My mouth still hurts, when I wake up, and even now, hours later. The calluses on my right hand are especially prominent. I'm afraid the skin around my mouth is visibly and noticeably chapped and red. I'm physically a mess. I drag myself to the gym and hammer out 45 minutes on the eliptical, then 8 miles on the treadmill. P comes home and I walk the dog for another 2 miles. 16 mile equivalents. I haven't kept anything down today. I'm sitting on my computer, blogging and drinking my sugar free chai with booze now, but with dinner in the fridge. When will my heart stop? Probably soon. I must eat.

So, Monday will be the day I start fresh and actively participate in recovery. Is that what I'm going to keep telling myself? That's the way recovery went when I was on my own - I'll do it tomorrow, this weekend, next week, next month. I can't live like that. I can't live like this. Time for change.