March 2nd 2025.
Defeating my eating disorder was a challenging journey, but I never expected it to be easy. It has been the greatest accomplishment in my life so far. I use the term "defeating" because that's how I see it, but those who have experienced the illness know that it never completely goes away. This is something I was warned about when I decided to fight back against my bulimia nervosa. It all started when a friend made a casual comment about my weight when I was just 13 years old, and 17 years later, I was finally ready to let go of this destructive part of my life.
It was a difficult process, but with the unwavering support of my wife and family, I attended therapy and consulted with nutritionists. Little by little, I began to chip away at the self-hatred that had consumed me for so long. It was a constant battle, but knowing how much my loved ones cared for me gave me the strength to keep going. My mother, who I confided in about my eating disorder just a year after it began, has been by my side throughout this hellish journey. It's important to note that it's not just the person with the disorder who suffers, but also those who care about them.
I kept a diary of positive thoughts, made changes to my diet, and celebrated every small victory - even something as simple as keeping a snack down. For me, understanding how much my recovery meant to my loved ones was a major driving force towards success. What started as their attempt to avoid "guilting" me turned into them becoming my biggest supporters. My wife and family would often ask me about my progress, and it was a joy to be able to share the good news with them.
But as time went on, the excitement and celebration around my recovery began to fade. It's natural for people to lose interest in something that is no longer considered a major issue, but for me, the struggle continued. The voices in my head telling me I was worthless and urging me to binge never truly went away. Sometimes they were dormant, and other times they were screaming in my ears, making it hard to focus on anything else.
That's where the relapse came in. Relapses are a common part of the recovery process, especially in the early stages. But this one was different. It only took one episode of depression, caused by my bipolar disorder, to send me spiraling back into destructive habits. I had naively thought that the voice in my head was gone, but it was back with a vengeance. It didn't matter if it was true or not - the demon in my brain was convincing me that I had gained all the weight back.
My relapse lasted for several months, and I had almost given up hope until something inside me snapped. Maybe it was a sudden fear for my health, a change in my medication for my mental health, or the desire to make my wife proud. But I knew it was now or never - if I let this continue, I would end up back at square one. I am not fully recovered yet, but I am getting better. My determination is back, and the negative voice is losing its power over me.
Most importantly, I still consider myself as having beaten my eating disorder. A relapse does not erase all the progress I have made. I am still in recovery, and that will never change. I refuse to let this setback defeat me, and I know that soon enough, I will be able to say with absolute certainty that I am completely fine. If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please reach out for help. You are not alone.
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