Can We Talk About The Brutality Of Recovery?
On learning not to numb
A year into eating disorder recovery and I’m healthier than I’ve been in nearly two decades, but there are moments I desperately miss the numbing sensation of full-blown bulimia. Last week, I found myself wanting to escape the sharp, prickly world. I’ve always been a sensitive human, I feel everything intensely—joy, rage, grief, fear. To feel everything so deeply is akin to hiking bare-legged through cacti-lined trails while everyone else forges on unfazed because they are wearing pants.
As a child, I was often described as too sensitive, so I learned to adapt by dulling the intensity with food. My mom used to hide boxes of cookies because I would eat an entire package in one sitting. For years food served as a sedative, but like many coping mechanisms, it became maladaptive, detrimental to my long-term survival.
When I entered my outpatient program, I dreamt of who I would be on the other side. I imagined a life of freedom. Most representations of recovery from…