Roads to Recovery: Anna's Story

Welcome to a new feature on my blog: Roads to Recovery!  Every one to two weeks I am going to feature a story that is NOT my own about different people's personal recovery journeys.  And that is the important part...it is a journey.  I hope to be able to share stories from all different points of recovery, not just the end of the road (is there really an end of the road?  I'll get back to you on that one).  I am SO excited to have the first guest blogger for this new feature be my beautiful friend, Anna.  Anna and I met back in 2002 when my family and I were living in Ireland.  We spent 1st year of secondary school nearly inseparable, and leaving her friendship was incredibly difficult for me.  Luckily, thanks to the handy dandy internet, we have been able to stay in touch!  What's more, she has been such a huge inspiration to me throughout this whole process, and you are about to see why...

First off, thanks so much to Katie for letting me feature in her fantastic blog! My story is a bit rambling, but there is a point to it, so I hope ,you manage to stay awake through it! The seeds of my anorexia were sown over 8 years ago now; at least 7 of the years since have been filled with varying levels of anxiety, guilt and torment. When I think back on that time now, I wonder whether it was my inability to trust that kept me trapped for so long; or simply a lack of information – probably a combination of both.

I should have been one of the lucky ones; I was diagnosed quickly and received inpatient treatment in Dublin, Ireland just over a year after my symptoms began in December 2007. Unfortunately, the treatment I received served only to further entrench my disordered beliefs, so that the following June – less than three months after being discharged – I presented in a significantly worse state (both physically and mentally) than I had on my initial admission. I can’t remember my exact thoughts at this time, but I do recall a determination to make an effort this time; to fight against the anorexia rather than collude with it.

Over the next year, I worked with the clinic staff as an outpatient; I followed my prescribed meal plan and gained enough weight to keep my BMI lay just out of the anorexic range. I certainly looked and felt better than I had a year previously; I went to university, made new friends, had relationships – all the standard stuff. My illness still pervaded my consciousness; body image was a big issue; meals (although nutritionally balanced) were strictly calorie counted and regimented – eating spontaneously at a friend’s house was a no-no; and stressful events were almost bound to lead to a reduction in intake. Yet I carried on eating; kept my weight (mostly) stable; and was able to lead a relatively normal life.

This is a ‘recovery’ story in itself. It’s one that you come across quite regularly in magazine articles about anorexia; and it’s one that I myself recounted to various Irish media outlets in an attempt to spread a message of hope. It’s what I genuinely believed recovery meant; no one had told me any different. So I stumbled along blindly, unconsciously waiting for something to trip me up. This didn’t outwardly manifest until my final year of university in 2011/12, but things had been bubbling under the surface for quite a while beforehand.

Gradually the rituals began to take told, even more strong than before; my thoughts turned to food 24/7 and my relationship with my loved ones eroded. I was in total denial about what was happening to me. I think I was terrified of admitting the truth. I successfully wangled my way out of a myriad of medical appointments by packing my bags and moving to London the moment university was over. The anorexia took on a life of its own, so that by the time a family member managed to convince me to visit my GP, I was unable to walk for five minutes without toppling over. It wasn’t until I was threatened with sectioning under the Mental Health Act that I was ready to admit that yes, anorexia was still very much a problem.

Thankfully, the section wasn’t necessary, and I agreed to a voluntary admission at an NHS facility in London. I was all set to make this admission something similar to my last – A.K.A get discharged at a low BMI and carry on living a pseudo-anorexic life. Thankfully, the incredible clinic staff persuaded me to change my mind. Over the year that followed, they provided me with information which I had been sorely lacking; that it is possible to make a FULL recovery from anorexia (no counting, no checking, no disordered behaviour whatsoever); that this can only happen when you reach a healthy weight (a weight that is healthy for YOU, rather than the lowest acceptable point on the BMI scale); that your brain chemistry will adjust and this won’t actually seem like the worst thing imaginable.

Of course, the information wasn’t enough to thwart the anorexia alone; I had to learn to trust. Probably one of my most frequently uttered phrases when in treatment was ‘but I haven’t trusted ANYONE before; how am I supposed to trust you?’ In retrospect, they made it easy for me. I remember in one of my earlier family therapy sessions, the therapist said ‘I believe I can get you to think about things other than food and weight’. Both my parents and I were sceptical – I had thought of little else for the past 6 years. But he was so confident. Looking back, he had every right to be – it didn’t happen overnight, but gradually other things began to take precedence.

Now, almost a year from discharge, I hardly recognise the person I became throughout my illness. I still don’t class myself as fully recovered, but I’m heading in the right direction. My weight is within a healthy range, I eat normally (as in properly normally, impromptu cupcakes on the way home from work included!) and I don’t take my emotions out on food – instead, I actually express them.

I don’t expect you to trust me implicitly by simply reading this blog post, but I hope I’ve demonstrated that there is something more than the ‘recovery’ we so often see portrayed. sometimes (with me anyway) there is a fear that looking ‘normal’ and letting go of those awful, yet strangely comforting rituals will fail to mark you out as special. Let me just say, having tried both, that ‘normal’ (despite the bad moments) beats anorexia’s ‘special’ hands down.

Thank you, Anna!! Your story has and will continue to inspire me and countless others. I am so happy that we have remained friends through the years, and I hope to visit you soon (or vice versa)!!

Fear

The other day in treatment, my therapist asked me "what are you afraid of?"

It was interesting, because I wasn't prepared for the question or my immediate response.  As soon as she finished speaking, a week of holding in emotions started pouring out of me, in the form of unstoppable tears.  I think crying is really important, and I have never been afraid to cry, but for whatever reason I had been holding it in for the past few days when really I needed to let it out.  Because frankly, I was terrified.  I am terrified.

Recovery is a scary time.  Being in your twenties is a scary time.  Moving to a new city is a scary time.  Being an actor in between shows is a scary time.  And that really is the word I would describe how I'm generally feeling lately.  Scared.

What am I afraid of?
Failing.
Running out of money. 
Making bad choices. 
Being an adult. 
Not finding a job that allows me to live comfortably. 
Having to go back to Lexington for whatever reason.
My body changing.
Not being able to fit into clothes (hey, just being honest here).
Not being able to stop eating on extreme hunger days (loss of control is terrifying).
Being a hypocrite. 
My face filling out. 
Not feeling comfortable in my own skin.
Unhealthy thoughts. 
Losing my friends. 
Losing my family. 
Losing my voice. 

So like any sensible person who is feeling scared and unsure about the future, I signed a lease on an apartment.  I've always been a person that has to force herself out of fear.  No one can do it for me.  Oh, you're scared that you're going to be stuck in Lexington at home forever?  I guess I'll go sublet an apartment in New York for a few months!  Oh, you're terrified of becoming an adult?  I guess I'll move to St. Pete and get an apartment!  I often question my tactics but whatever, I'm just being me.

Looking at the list above is interesting, because I know a year ago how I would deal with every single one of those fears.  I would lose my appetite and restrict.  I would go to the gym to "let off some steam."  I would take 2 hour walks to "clear my head."  I would allow every sense to get wrapped in cotton wool and descend into my beloved brain buzz. Not feeling is sometimes quite nice.  It really is a high, and for a while you feel wonderfully intoxicated. But hiding from the things that scare you only make them scarier later on.  And now, the healthy part of my brain looks at that list and says "Duh, KT.  There's one thing that will make all of those things easier to deal with...not having an eating disorder."

I'm proud of myself for getting an apartment, and you better believe it's going to be the cutest apartment in the beautiful city of San Pedro.  I mean, look at the door!  I decided on this for my inspiration image and color palette:

And here are some more images from my apartment pinterest board (yep, I'm that person).  I seriously live for this kind of stuff.

The future is scary...but it's pretty exciting, if you ask me.

So, You Wanna Restrict...

After deciding to really and truly fight my disorder on October 1st, 2013, I have had my fair share of relapse moments.  I've had countless days lost to doubt, numerous times where I've thought "just this once...", and a myriad of bad or unhealthy thoughts traipse through my head.  I would say I have had two MAJOR, full fledged relapses: one right around new years day and another in early April after I was wrongfully fired from my dinky little Lexington job. Both of those times were definitely just...THE WORST, so you would THINK I would learn my lesson.  Unfortunately, mental health doesn't really work like that.  So after my April relapse, with the help of my therapist, I composed a letter to myself that I can read whenever I feel the pull of my disorder.  I still look at it, and it really helps me to ground myself in reality and realize my thoughts are irrational and unhealthy.  While it still is a tool I use, it is quite astounding to read it now and realize how far I have come.  It's full of tough love and real talk because sometimes, that's what you need. I hope that it can help you, too. 

Dear KT,

So...you want to restrict.  That's cute.  Here is what I have learned during my periods of relapse when I have strayed a bit too close to the edge...or just fallen off the cliff completely.

You just love flirting with danger.  There's something so tantalizing about using bad or destructive behaviors. Telling yourself just this once.  It's never just once.  EVER. When you don't eat your minimums, you usually sleep pretty badly.  Use your brain, girl.  You're hungry.  You're not sleeping as well as you used to because your body is healing itself and wants you to fuel it properly.  Just...go get dessert, weirdo.

The less you fuel yourself, the more obsessive thoughts you will have.  Haven't you noticed that on days you've had a little less or done a little more you find yourself wanting to look at food blogs?  That you find yourself planning meals and times and portions for the coming days, and you start getting anxious if someone suggests a deviation from the plan?  Again...use your brain.  When you are hungry/restricting you are a PAIN to be around.  You are so impatient and so sassy.  I honestly have no time for that. And neither does anyone else.

The anxious thoughts send you into a manic mindset, which inevitably leads to a depressive state. I don't know which version of you is more obnoxious.  Just...don't. Because bad behaviors are bad behaviors.  While I thought weighing myself at home (as opposed to the doctor or nutritionist for a weekly weigh in) just to help me "get over it" was a great idea...SHOCKER, it was not.  You realize your capacity for obsessive behaviors right?  You have OCD.  You let it spiral out of control until you were weighing yourself numerous times throughout the day, something you had never done before.  Don't let that happen again.  It was excessive and ridiculous.

I repeat bad behaviors are bad behaviors.  So you don't poop for a day...don't you DARE freak out on me because I can't have you fucking up my system more than you already have.  Don't do anything stupid. If your stomach hurts in that specific way (you know what I'm talking about) you're fucking hungry so go get a snack and gulp down some water please for the love of GOD. And another thing: restricting makes you incredibly indecisive and whiny.  If you can't choose whether you "should" eat or not and you're getting emotional about it...you need to eat.  That's just a hunger cue manifesting itself in a weird, annoying way.  Restricting will also inevitably make you feel like everyone who even mentions food is trying to attack you which actually...makes no fucking sense.

I know it feels counterproductive because somewhere along the line in your 23 years of existence you became obsessed with needing/having/wanting less, but punching Emily in the throat really does feel good and makes you feel like a recovery warrior.  Restricting just makes you tired. The more you give into bad behaviors, the worse Emily makes you feel about every aspect of yourself.  That's STUPID.  The more you love and care for yourself the better you feel.  That's SMART.

So, future me.  I hope this letter from KT who just got done relapsing and never wants to deal with it ever again has smacked some sense into your brain.  You're really smart, you Summa Cum Laude graduate, you.  Let's use that beautiful brain!  You can do this.  You are addicted to control, but you know what?  Taking control of this healing process is a high unlike any brain buzz Emily ever allowed me.  I just want you to remember that because if you're referencing this, I'm guessing you're feeling pretty low and vulnerable.  Take a moment to breathe deeply, cry if you need to, and remember...RELAPSES END BADLY 100% OF THE TIME. 

It is not worth it. Ever. 

I am so proud of you....now go eat a brownie. 
Love, KT.

Sadness Burritos - Happiness Muffins

I have gotten so many fantastic ideas for blog posts, and I definitely will try to get to all of them eventually.  You all are so creative and inquisitive...which makes me extremely happy!  There were a few suggestions that, honestly, will take some time to write simply because they will be difficult and personal.  For example, my dear friend Daniel suggested I write a post detailing my breaking point - the moment I decided to really start in on recovery and say goodbye to my disorder.  That is something that will be very cathartic and probably very helpful, but will take some time.

For now, I'm going to do a post that I have gotten multiple requests for!!  That is, my handy dandy checklist I mentioned in this post . I call it "Sadness Burritos --> Happiness Muffins."  It is a list I created in treatment that I can turn to when I am feeling depressed, anxious, or just generally unhealthy.  Oddly enough, I am left brain dominant (I'm pretty even, but I tend to slightly favor my left brain) and I LOVE LISTS.  I LOVE SCHEDULES.  I LOVE PLANS.  So just having the list in front of me and being able to put a check mark in the box next to a given activity gives me a thrill.  I am an achiever and I love feeling like I have accomplished something.  It also gives me motivation on depressive days where I feel like I have none.  By the time I muster enough emotional strength to do one thing on the checklist, I am able to get on a roll and become a functioning member of society again!!  

Let's turn those SADNESS BURRITOS into HAPPINESS MUFFINS (in 8 easy steps)! 

These are the things on my checklist.  A lot of people in the world would NOT find joy in scrubbing a sink.  To each his own.  

Make Music (sad, anxious, angry, frustrated, hopeless, lonely)

*extreme- Belt your FACE OFF!

Music is my drug of choice.  When I'm anxious, sad, angry, or feel like a piece of poo, I can sing and play Angela and everything else falls away (that sounds very Natalie from N2N of me...). But seriously!  When I'm feeling exceptionally emotional or angry, I go into the shower and just belt my face off.  I don't care what it sounds like, or if I crack, or if I'm basically yelling "Astonishing" at the top of my lungs.  CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS!! 

Go Outside (sad, anxious, angry, frustrated, hopeless)

Do a Yoga Practice (sad, hopeless)

Honestly, if I'm feeling more angry or frustrated and less sad, this doesn't help me as much. But generally speaking, yoga is one of my favorite things in life.  You never feel bad after a yoga practice!  

Work on an Art Project (sad, frustrated, hopeless, lonely)

You get bonus points for this one if you do an art project for a friend!  The only thing I love more than making art is giving it away!  

Clean (anxious, angry, frustrated)

*extreme - Find a sink and SCRUB IT

This one is good if you're feeling anxious and have a lot of pent-up energy.  Don't take it out on your loved one, take it out on the GERMS!!

Read a Comfort Book (sad, hopeless, lonely)

*extreme - Unicorns of Balinor or The Marvelous Land of Oz (Childhood comfort books)

Everyone knows how much I love reading, and sometimes you just have to escape to your favorite childhood fantasy worlds (yes, my mom is shipping me my Unicorns of Balinor books and no, I couldn't be more excited). 

Write it out (sad, anxious, angry, frustrated, hopeless, lonely)

Journal, blog, write poetry, write a letter to a friend, anything!  Just get it out on paper! 

Spend Time With Friends (sad, anxious, angry, frustrated, hopeless, lonely)

I start and end my list with my main 2: Music and People!!  You will never regret going out and having a good time with friends.  You will, however, regret staying in and stewing in your own depression. 

Now, don't you feel better? 

Make your own checklist and see how it helps you.  One thing that tends to happen with depression is the feeling that self-care is a waste of time and unproductive.  WRONG!!  It is actually the most productive thing you can do for yourself.  Sometimes, you have to put everything else on hold and read a fantasy novel, OKAY?!  This is a valid use of your time, and if you need outside validation, please let me know what you come up with for your list and what you are able to accomplish.  I would love to cheer you on and tell you you're doing a good job. Now let's feast on some happiness muffins! 

Summertime Sadness

It's definitely summer out there. I have taken to just wearing my bathing suit around the house.  I watched dolphins swimming in the ocean last night for a good hour (as someone who was born land locked, that will NEVER get old.  DOLPHINS. RIGHT THERE). I absolutely have to take a shower every day because well...it's really hot.  

Unfortunately, depression doesn't care if you live in the sunshine state.  Depression doesn't care if you can walk down the street and instantly be on the beach.  Depression doesn't care if you have a loving family and amazing friends.  Sometimes it just finds your insecurities ("the show is over...now what...I need to find an apartment...I ate too much at dinner...I miss my friends...what am I even doing right now...I'm tired but I should be productive....WHY AM I CRYING?!") and attack.  

The important thing to remember in those moments when you feel like you don't "deserve" to be depressed is that there is nothing wrong with being depressed.  It is a real chemical imbalance in your brain and sometimes you just can't help it.  The past few days have been a little rough for me personally, but luckily I have some pretty awesome people and tactics  to get me through the bad days.  Early on in recovery I even made a checklist called "Sadness Burritos --> Happiness Muffins" because sometimes just the act of checking off all of the things on the checklist pulls me out of my funk. 

The two biggest things that help me whenever I feel the depression cloud are MUSIC and PEOPLE. I've talked about it on the blog before, but when I was at my lowest of lows, Angela my ukulele really pulled me up and out of the hole I had dug myself into. She became my "tangible object" and to this day whenever I am having bad thoughts, or want to use bad behaviors, or just generally anxious, I can strum a few chords and the world simply gets better.  She replaced restriction as my number one coping mechanism, so I'm not exaggerating when I say she saved my life. 

The other thing is people.  Friends...new friends, old friends, strangers on the beach, the group of old men at Starbucks who sit at the table next to me every day, a phone call from my best friend, a Facebook chat with my sister...it doesn't matter.  I just can NOT isolate myself.  Depression thrives in isolation, which is annoying because of course when we are sad that is exactly what we want to do...shut ourselves off. After lots of self examination in therapy, I have learned that connections with people are what I truly crave.  I am not the introvert I thought I was for 4 years. 

Even if you don't struggle with depression, I think it is important for everyone to find their one or two things that help whenever they are feeling down.  All feelings are valid and real and should be dealt with.  There is nothing wrong with being sad.  NOTHING.  There is no use covering up bad feelings and pretending to be the happiest person in the world...trust me.  I've been there, I've done that, and it doesn't work. Allow yourself to feel the bad feelings, to go through some summertime sadness, but make sure to have ways to pull yourself out of it so the world can see your smiling face once again.  

God, I hope I get it!

Look at all the people....at all the people....

how many people does he need?!

I'll be the first to admit that auditioning is hard and unnatural.  We, as actors, prepare for weeks: drilling the same 16 bars over and over (only to get it cut down to 8 five minutes before we walk in), driving hours to a specific open call, spending exorbitant amounts of money on pictures of our heads which will probably get thrown away, and waiting around all day in order to sing for at most 90 seconds.  Why would anyone go through that?! And yet we keep doing it, like the crazy masochists we are.  

People who aren't in the industry often marvel at the idea of a cattle call audition, but to us, it's just part of the deal.  We can all agree that they are pretty awful, but I have found in my experience that it's really all about how you approach it.  A few days ago, I found myself at the open call for "Finding Nemo" at Disney World. There were SO many people there.  I'm not sure the exact number but I know there were over 300 people at least.  

I love auditioning.  I LOVE IT SO MUCH, and I'm NOT just saying that to trick myself into believing it.  I really do love it.  It gives me an adrenaline high and gets my blood pumping!  I love the chase...but strangely enough, I am not a competitive person, which is why I think I can deal with the oddity that is big auditions.  The hundreds of people all around me are not my competitors, they are just people!  We are all in this together, so why not make it at least a little fun for ourselves?  How about we don't play the comparison game because it's pointless. How about we do talk to eachother about things beyond the "fluff" category of conversation.  How about we stop being fake to one another?  If you need to be quiet and not talk to anyone around you, please just smile and shake your head when I ask you if you watch "How I Met Your Mother" because OMG that guy over there looks exactly like Marshall!!!  I won't be offended...I'm just excited to be here.  

I could get upset about the fact that I only have 60 seconds to belt my face off.  I could be annoyed that the producers asked to hear only 8 measure of music (what can you show in that?!  Gaaaah!!).  I could be anxious about the fact that I could be asked to leave based solely on what I look like.  But you know what?  For that minute, or half a minute, or 10 seconds that the director is looking my way, I am performing my one woman show.  I am singing and I love singing more than anything in the entire universe. 

And so what if someone behind the table doesn't look up, or they aren't interested, or they don't call me back?  I got to perform today!  And isn't that the whole point?  

It's easy to get down on ourselves when we keep pounding the pavement and hear nothing back from directors.  It's hard, it's exhausting, and it makes us want to quit...but a very special fish once told me to "just keep swimming." 

We get by with a little help...

I've gotten many requests over the past few weeks to do a post about being a supportive friend/family member/loved one to an individual struggling with or recovering from an eating disorder.  I'm not going to lie, I've been putting it off because I want it to be perfect...it is so important!! Before we go any further though, I need to emphasize that first and foremost, those suffering from ED's need professional treatment.  This is advice for those of you who are around these individuals on a day to day basis.  While it is incredibly important for you to be supportive, it is even more important that your friend or family member is on a guided road to recovery with professionals holding them accountable.  It is not your job to be their therapist, but you can still have an extremely positive effect.  So let's begin, shall we?

Friends. They're doing it right. 

Don't make comments about their body - even if you think it's a compliment. 
No matter what you say, it will be the wrong thing.  "You've gained weight!" is the wrong thing.  "Don't worry, you're still skinny!" is the wrong thing. "You're looking healthier!" is the wrong. thing. I know what you're thinking...these are all compliments and you mean them as a good thing or a sign of progress.  But it doesn't matter.  ED's can't help taking whatever you say about our changing bodies and twisting it into something horrible.  Just don't talk about the physical...AT ALL!! That's the whole point!  Try something like "You have so much more energy these days!  You're bright, bubbly personality is so great!"  or "You seem so much happier!" These are things I will never get sick of hearing.  (I will however, never turn down a compliment on my hair)

Don't bring up your own diet or exercise plans, struggles, or advice. 
Recovery is a bitch, I'm just going to say that right now.  You want to know the main reason it's a bitch?  because the entire UNIVERSE is fixated on diet and exercise.  You can't escape it.  I found this post on tumblr that really says it best: "If I had to describe an eating disorder, I would resemble it to a drug addiction. Now, imagine a drug addict trying to quit in a society that’s advertising new drugs while promising amazing highs all over the internet, on YouTube, Facebook, in TV, on the bus passing you right as you’re battling yourself whether to get your fix or go straight home. A society in which you can barely have a conversation without drugs being mentioned; how many you did yesterday, how amazing it felt, which drugs you want to try next. Surrounded by the mentality that it’s embarrassing, weird, lazy, even a sin not to do drugs." So please for the love of GOD...don't tell me about the cleanse you want to do.  Don't tell me about what you did at the gym yesterday.  Don't ask me what I do to stay skinny.  And don't you DARE come to me when you feel "bad" about eating that slice of cake.  I will punch you in the face. Just eat. the. damn. cake. 

Extreme Hunger is fun!  8 servings, my ass.  One and DONE.

Administer compliments and encouragement about their actions. 
This is important.  Throughout recovery, being told I "look better" has unfortunately been triggering.  I can't explain it...I really wish I could, but I can't.  "Healthy" is annoyingly a very triggering word. I know I'm not the only one who deals with this, though!  I do respond incredibly well, however, to people telling me "good job" when I have done something.  Let's face it, we all love to be praised -  You did a great job on a painting YAY!  You won a board game YAY! You took a nap YAY!  You went out with friends DOUBLE YAY!

Don't focus on what/how much they are eating. 
This is a major one I personally struggle with.  I hate people watching me eat and asking me what I'm eating.   Just ask Robyn (I have complained to her so much for people asking me "Is that...A SANDWICH?!"). My sass comes out in full force when people ask me if I'm eating an apple when it is CLEARLY AN APPLE I'M HOLDING IN MY HAND.  JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!! *deep breath* Because of this, people struggling with ED's tend to isolate themselves at meal times.  I have made major strides with this, but it still causes me intense anxiety when people comment.  Just the other day at a cookout attention was drawn to me and my plate, and although I'm sure no one else there even remembers the incident, I have gone over it about a million times in my head, and probably could have started crying on the spot.  So just like...find other topics of conversation.  There are so many! Music, movies, nature, the German Football team, corgis, and astrology - just to name a few. 

Don't assume it's just a phase, just about "being thin", or just an intense diet. Don't downplay the severity of this disorder.  DON'T insinuate that they are "lucky" for getting to eat more now that they're recovering. 
Eating Disorders are severe mental disorders that can have fatal affects.  Anorexia didn't come into my life because I wanted to be skinnier or because I wanted to lose a few pesky pounds. I have always been a lil nug.   I struggle with depression, anxiety, and OCD, as do the majority of people suffering from ED's. It is an irrational disorder and can make us do weird things. Don't tell us to "snap out of it" or to "just eat a cheeseburger".  I would have given anything to just "snap out of it" a year ago when I was in my room pacing back and forth because my ED wouldn't leave me alone.  I would love nothing more than to just chow down on a cheeseburger in the middle of the day with no guilt. It's not that easy.  Just let them know that you are here if they need you.  If they don't reach out to you specifically, don't push the subject.  That might not be how they cope, they might want to not talk about it, or you might be a triggering presence.  If you are, please don't take offense...just let it be.  They will come to you when they're ready.   

The most important thing about being a good friend to a person struggling with ED is to be there for them in whatever capacity they need. If they talk about it, great.  If they very clearly don't want to talk about it, also great. Don't overstep your boundaries, they will let you know what they need at that moment.  Remember what I said at the beginning - you are not their therapist. I'm really sorry that it's not "fair" that your compliment is triggering or it causes them to feel bad even though it had good intentions.  You know what else isn't "fair"?  Having an eating disorder.  Just make sure to keep the positive vibe flowing.  Love them, so that they can learn to love themselves.  

You've only begun...

Well, here we are.  "The Burnt Part Boys" is now a memory.

This is going to be a tough one to leave behind.  I knew that going in, but little did I know how much this show would truly mean to me by the end of it.  I could play this role surrounded by these people forever and be perfectly content!  I know that's a big statement...but I don't think you realize how much I love this show!

The performance yesterday was incredible, if I do say so myself.  We had an absolutely fantastic audience who were along for every twist and turn of the story, and by the end of it were shedding tears just like we were.  Oh and I broke my final compass!  Big day, big day.

It probably comes as no big surprise to anyone that I get very attached to experiences and people.  I am very, VERY bad at goodbyes, and I let them affect me more than I should.  It's one of the big reasons that I started isolating myself and keeping myself from truly connecting with people. I feel like I'm always leaving, and it messes me up too much emotionally to invest in that.  Throughout recovery, I have found that I need those deep connections to function, so now that I'm breaking out of that bad habit, I'm finding myself overwhelmed with the thought of saying goodbye to this show and these guys.  Luckily, this is only the first step in my Florida journey...at least I won't have to say goodbye to the place!  Many members of my Burnt Part family are here too, so that makes it easier.  I'm still pretty torn up about the whole thing, though.

It's amazing the difference a year makes.  Last year (although I would have never admitted it) when the clock was ticking down on "Spring Awakening," I was so excited for it to be over.  Emily ruled my life. She was making every waking moment a living hell and constantly telling me what a piece of shit I was.  This year I gave myself over to the experience.  There were glimpses of Emily, but with the help and support of everyone around me, I was able to silence her and keep her from ever intruding on this journey.

The scrappy little whistle blower pictured above made me feel stronger than I ever have before.  She made me understand how important it is to be fueled, to have a clear mind, and to fully connect with what is happening around me. She made me understand how much BETTER life is when all of your senses aren't wrapped in cotton wool, and when you don't have a track of negative self talk constantly running in your brain. I will carry Frances Boggs with me for the rest of my life.

I wouldn't change a thing about this experience.  This family shared something truly special.  Thank you all for letting me be one of the boys. <33

Princess Frances OUT.