Charlotte's perspective

We’ve a new series of stories from the SWEDA community and beyond, inspired by the prompt “What Recovery Means to Me”. We’re building this series as a resource: something for people affected by eating disorders to read, that can support them and inspire hope, or just hear that they are not alone.

Charlotte's reflections as a person with 40+ years of lived experience:
 
"Recovery for me means having a life, being able to engage in what's going on  rather than living in my head. It allows me to build relationships with people because I am not totally preoccupied with food. In essence recovery means running in to life rather than away from it." 
 
 
Life! Recovery means I can sit down first thing in the morning with a cup of tea and have a love-in with my dogs. A few moments of peace, content. No expectations, no working out what I did or didn't do, what I should be doing, or where I am going next. Simply being here now. Most importantly, I do not have to sit dreading the day or wondering how I am going to get through it. 
 
I spent 40 years avoiding life, using food, or the lack of it, as my master. Every decision was dictated by food, every relationship was secondary to my relationship with food. I was highly functioning so presented to the world as independent, self reliant and successful. I had a series of good jobs, travelled the world with them, earned well. I had a house and to external appearances a good social life, a comfortable existence. To me it was all an empty shell. 
 
I had a home but it was only a functional space. I related to people but they were tick box exercises to be endured. I hated myself. I drove myself on relentlessly in the vague hope that doing things, being productive, would somehow validate me and make me feel better. It didn’t. Me without outputs was lacking something, a lesser being. Yet if I achieved something it wasn't good enough and  if I did something badly I deserved punishment. I could not control the world and how I thought it saw me but I could control food and it became my focus. I believed myself invincible. I read about how dangerous Anorexia was but, that applied to others, not me. I was desperately lonely locked in an exclusive relationship with food. 
 
It was almost as if since I could not engage in life I took on a challenge to test the limits of my physical endurance, eating as little as possible whilst still determinedly walking long distances. Why? Because I could. Nobody else was logging it as a positive feat. I knew and hated the fact that there was a rigidity to my thinking - it was my tunnel vision that upset me more than any physical deterioration. Only when I was forced to admit that life was relentlessly miserable, that I was beyond helping myself and in a medically perilous state did I grudgingly consider the possibility of accepting help because the prospect of getting help could be no worse than the life I was leading at the time. 
 
I have sought recovery many times through my life, because I always believed there was an alternative, a better life to be had but I never reached a healthy weight and soon enough fell back into old familiar ways. This time something was different and somewhere the desire for a better quality of life mattered more to me than doggedly following the way of life I had clung to so determinedly.  
 
The road to recovery was long, hard and often difficult. Fighting every step of the way I began to understand that I really could not do it alone and that those willing to support me did perhaps have my best interests at heart. Many times I faced a dilemma of doing something I resisted and decided that I would try it and see - then I could make a more informed decision as to whether to continue with it, or abandon it, reverting to my tried and tested ways, if I chose.  
 
At a basic level eating food and nourishing my body did have a dramatic effect. I recovered physical strength and increased the flexibility of my mind. I felt better (loathe as I was to admit it initially). And over time I began to see that eating need not be such a tortuous process, nothing dreadful happened and I did not blow up like a balloon. Restoring my weight to anything approaching healthy took many months. I could, sometimes, enjoy food. I could eat with others and enjoy the social experience where the food was incidental - be normal!  
 
But whilst eating adequately is a prerequisite the major gift that recovery has given me is the ability to engage in life. I do not have to live in my head. I can run into life rather than away from it. What I have to remind myself though is that I cannot do this alone. Life is about being, not doing and I need other people in my life. I try and do things that will be meaningful to me, not for appearances sake or because I think I should. Food is the fuel that facilitates life. I do not go to bed now thankful at the prospect of a few hours oblivion and escape from the battle for survival. instead, I reflect on a day where I had enough fuel to participate in my life rather than being an observer of it.  
 
In recovery I have learnt I have choices, I can bring meaning to each and every experience of life.  I am learning the basic life skills that were lacking in the superficially successful life I fought so hard to maintain. When I treat myself as I would treat anyone else life is generally more pleasant for me and very probably for those around me. It often doesn't take much. 
 
When things are difficult as they sometimes are, I have to go back to basics - eating adequately  and regularly since without that a reasonable quality of life is not possible. 
 
Recovery means I'm beginning to relate to people rather than food and I'm finding they have so much more life, fun and spirit to offer than food ever does. People enhance my life and present possibilities in a way food never can. My experience suggests that age and longevity of the struggle with anorexia is not a barrier. Recovery is about quality of life not quantity. The taste of life is sweet in recovery. 

If you'd like to take part in our new project, What Recovery Means to Me, you can read our guidelines here.