the Z, Y, X's of life "R" recovery

these 26 entries from z-a are meant as a tandem collection of short essays.  instead of the abc's of life, i'm writing backwards for two reasons.  t.s. eliot said that to make an end is to make a beginning, which i find true.  that and my grandfather could say the alphabet backwards faster than i could say it forwards.  now that's some wit.

in thinking about "r", two words come to mind:  rescue and recovery.  i've been saved from myself too many times to count and, while the mountain rescue is awe-inspiring in terms of nature, recovery is winning out for the time being, in hopes of encouraging others.

how exactly does one go from a 79-pound skeleton to a curvaceous foodie, you might ask?  anyone who knows me today knows how much i love food--flavors, textures, the art of gathering around it, wine pairings, dinners in the field, backyard brunches, trying new restaurants.  in my bathroom, you will not find a scale, but you will find an art piece of an ample-bodied woman in a garden, reminding me to relax, enjoy life, and celebrate my body type.  but it wasn't always this way.

it started in 6th grade.  me, carrying my viola case down the hallway, to the taunt of "she's got a big butt, big butt" from the "popular kids".  one day i'd had enough.  i made an internal vow.  summer camp was coming up and i'd show them, i'd come back thin. not that i was overweight, mind you, but i've always been sturdy/athletic.  and kids can be so mean. (maybe that's what drew me to teaching middle school literature and K-12 art.  i love middle schoolers, with all their messy act first, think second. so much is changing for them every day and i wanted to make a positive impact on them as a teacher like my teachers did for me.)

it was easy enough to lose weight at camp, the food not being that great in the first place, and i did come back noticeably thinner after only just a week.  the problem is, i didn't stop there. (in looking back, i think it was a combination of being a high-achiever/perfectionist coupled with a stubborn streak.  i had made an internal vow and i always keep my promises, to others but also to myself.  a lesson in being careful what we tell ourselves.)

all i had wanted was for the teasing to stop.  what i didn't account for were the multiple hospitalizations, daily weigh-ins, being asked to temporarily leave the swim team because i didn't intake enough calories for practice, horrible-tasting Ensure, counselors who didn't understand, and "the place" where i was sent in good faith for hopes of healing. 

it was the 80's and everyone meant well. it's just that i don't think eating disorders were well understood or treatment plans well mapped out.   it's horrifying to see someone you love waste away before your eyes.  but it wasn't about food.  it was about relaxing into my adolescent sense of self; a case of an otherwise healthy girl, interrupted. 

in "the place" that i don't remember the name of--but was one of those places that probably had Oak in the name somewhere or ended in Springs like suburban neighborhoods--i was lumped in with a wide range of "struggling teens" where we had meaningless group circle talks, daily chores of cleaning the hamster cage, therapy time painting cheap ceramic sailing ships and where a priest once tried to exorcise a demon from me.  i sat and looked at him before calmly stating, "listen, no disrespect mister god-dude whoever you are, i have anorexia nervosa, not a demon" as i got up and left the room, letting the door swing shut behind me.

everyone is different but i did heal and have never struggled since.  it was both instant and yet gradual.  i owe it to people's prayers, my parents' patience, my elderly neighbor Doris, my 7th grade lit teacher Mrs. Eilert, and my dear late Aunt Marie.

each one of these people could be a gratitude story in and of themselves, but it was the summer with Aunt Marie that i credit with really turning me around.  perhaps no gentler soul for me, besides my dad--her brother, has walked the earth and i miss her so.  

we rode the sky bridge together to the hospital where she worked as a nurse but at this hospital i was a guest, not a patient.  she let me fix my own meals and eat what and when i wanted to, putting her focus on me, not on eating.  i cliff-jumped with my uncle and cousin into the deep blue Canadian waters.  we went for regular walks with Marie's friend Una, an eclectic Australian woman with fake red hair, huge glasses and a penchant for eating bananas.

one day Una looked me up and down from behind her mammoth glasses and said, "pity, you'd be so much more attractive with some meat on your bones."  by now i'd lived there long enough to make some friends my own age as well and one day on the beach they said to me, "run!" so i did and they started laughing, "haha, we've never seen a skeleton run before!" 

i think something clicked that day and the inner vow began to reverse.  being so intent on avoiding being teased, this was the opposite of what i'd hoped for.  somehow, slowly, i relaxed, started enjoying normal meals with people again, and went from 79 to 83 pounds, then 96...105 and back up to a healthy weight for my 5' 8" frame. i got to rejoin swim team & water polo, made the high school cheerleading squad, became a lifeguard, and went on to compete in varsity tennis.  

and i can honestly say i've never struggled again.  not only have i not struggled with food, i came to love and adore cooking and flavors from travels all around the world. we always ate naturally and well from the garden in my family but were not "foodies" or gourmet in the sense of the word.  so, the only explanation i have is it must be a gift back to me for the lost years--it's almost as if i love and embrace food now to the same extent that i once avoided it.  

recovery may be too small of a word after all. for i did not merely return to the state i was in before but was transformed into something better--whether deprived by other or by self, no one appreciates a feast so much as a starving person.  and no one could appreciate the gift of food more than i do today.  

i've long-since apologized to my body for what i put it through and now try to eat mindfully, thinking about what nutrients i might be craving. eating for both enjoyment and nourishment.  no weigh ins, just going by if my clothes fit and if i have good energy, reveling in the social aspect of coming to the table.

perhaps relaxation is a better "r" word, relaxing into oneself, one's body, and enjoyment of life to the fullest.