Thanksgiving Will Always Be Difficult For Me. Here’s How I Cope.

By the time I was 12 years old, I grew self-conscious about my body. I was 5'7" and "overdeveloped" compared to my friends. The weight difference between my friends and me was pretty stark. That's when I started dieting.

A few years later, when I was in high school, I was practicing extreme restriction with food — severely restricting my calorie intake — and occasional purging. I would eat a piece of fruit for breakfast, a small lunch and just enough food at dinner so that people wouldn't notice I had a problem. Then I'd give myself a "free" day to binge. When the weight came off, it encouraged me to continue the cycle.

At that time, I still enjoyed the holidays. The first thing I'd hear from family members I hadn't seen were compliments about how great I looked. The recognition felt good, and it fed my disease. I was soon diagnosed with anorexia, and I had become so thin that the psychiatrist I was seeing told me I couldn't go to college unless I put on 20 pounds.

I did put the weight on, and for a few years, I overcame the urge to diet. But I relapsed in my 30s, and nearly lost everything. I went on a popular commercial diet, which triggered something in my brain and led to massively restricting my diet. I was already at a low body weight when something just snapped. I was in a stressful relationship, working all the time, and I essentially stopped eating, and I plunged into extreme anorexia for several years. I had to resign from the teaching job that I loved. It wasn't something I could hide from staff or my students, so I took what I thought would be a six-month leave to go to an outpatient eating disorder program. Eventually, it was clear that I needed inpatient care, as the eating disorder and health impact had become far more complicated.

Finally, I was put into a treatment center. My parents and treatment team did an intake for me without my knowledge and booked me a ticket for a facility in Arizona. I found out just two days before I was scheduled to leave. After that, I went in and out of treatment probably 20 times. But as my weight normalized, I started bingeing and purging. My anorexia led to bulimia, which then led to binge-eating disorder.

It took me a long time to deal with binge-eating disorder. Because it's not well understood by doctors — they just kept telling me to go on a diet, not recognizing how complicated that would be due to my history. Then about five years ago, I went to an intuitive-eating treatment center and learned to change my relationship with food, focusing on listening to what my body needs and practicing self-compassion. Since then, I've become a recovery mentor and a volunteer with the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders.

Thanksgiving, a holiday that essentially celebrates binge-eating, is always going to be difficult for me. But I've learned that with a little preparation, I don't have to miss out on family gatherings. The more I plan ahead and strategize with other people who have been through this, the better I do. Rather than ignore the anxiety, I try to lessen it.

I engage in a lot of positive self-talk ahead of time and talk to my therapist about it. I make plans that I know will uplift me the weekend after Thanksgiving, either with a friend who I know is safe for me or with people I've met in treatment who understand what I'm going through. I wear clothing that makes me feel comfortable so I'm not self-conscious. I choose who I sit next to wisely, seeking out family members who won't make comments about my body. When I feel anxious, I check in via text with a friend who understands and can support me. I only eat while sitting down at the table, and I try to eat slowly and mindfully.

Navigating life with an eating disorder is a lifelong journey. I'm thankful for the support systems and constant learnings that help me face it, one holiday at a time.

Resources
National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders
National Alliance on Mental Illness