** I made a new page for all links to my Weekend ED Series posts, so if you want to check the previous posts out, please go to my Weekend ED Series page. **
I talked about one angel during my recovery on my last Weekend ED Series post. But of course, my biggest angels were my parents. They were the one to stick with me through every sticky and grimy process of recovery. Since they knew next to nothing about eating disorders, it was a learning process for all of us.
A few days after I was at the Northwestern Hospital, my mother flew all the way from Washington, D.C., to Chicago to pick me up. That was the earliest flight she could catch, and it was with a mixture of shame and relief that I greeted her.
I was discharged from the hospital the day that she arrived, and we stayed at Danielle’s home for a couple days so that we could take care of some stuff before returning home.
Northwestern University was very clear that they refused to let me back in until I got better. I got an official letter from the school dean stating that in order to return back to school, I had to be approved by a medical doctor, a school doctor, and the school psychiatrist. Fair enough. I signed the document of withdrawal stating that I understood the requirements, packed up my stuff, and returned home to the east coast.
It felt awkward returning home just one month after I left with such fanfare. Everyone back home had sent me off hopeful yet with worry in their eyes; and now they received me with even more worry and less hope.
But I was optimistic. I now had a clear goal: Gain weight. Go back to Northwestern. I no longer had time to dilly-dally, and I saw this as a much-deserved kick-in-the-butt to prevent me from losing focus and motivation in my recovery. I confidently told everyone that I was going to go back for the next school year, and that I would really make a change this time.
And everything I said, I truly believed. I really did want to get well. I so desperately wanted to go back to Northwestern. Although my period there was short, I had really loved the academic energy there, despite the fact that I couldn’t participate in as many activities as I wanted because of my limited stamina, and my rigid schedule. Thus I finally accepted the fact that I really did need a healthy body in order to be a student.
Each morning I woke up, I pumped up my motivation for that day by recalling the grand, gothic university gates, the beautiful, pale lake in the middle of campus, and the bustling town of Evanston. I pictured myself returning back to my friends, having lunch with them, pulling all-nighters in the library, participating in the school newspaper and Glee club, taking long walks by the lake. Because I had tasted the college life for a month, the craving for a full experience consumed me.
Yet by the time breakfast was over, my chutzpah puttered out.
I really, really struggled the first couple of weeks. My parents, believing my promise to try harder, didn’t try to exert much control over me at first.
But I was just so entrenched in the few collection of food that I could eat, that I just couldn’t bring myself to branch out to new foods. I kept buying the same items over and over, as if somehow I will just magically gain the weight without having to make an active change in my eating habits. If I somehow ate a slightly bigger breakfast, I would freak out and compensate with a smaller lunch, or go out and try to burn off the excess calories that I didn’t think I needed (There is no such thing when it comes to necessary weight gain in recovery!!!).
In other words, nothing much changed from the time I was at Northwestern. I might add a handful of nuts or a Luna bar here and there, but overall, my caloric intake was still very much deficient. I ended up losing more weight within those few initial weeks at home.
My parents then decided that it was time to intervene.
Meanwhile, the elders and deacons in church were going ape shit-crazy.
“It’s been weeks and she’s not showing signs of any progress,” one elder said urgently. “Her mental condition is clearly too severely impaired if she is unable to recover even to the point of withdrawing from college!”
I’m not sure of the proper financial terms, but another elder even offered to mortgage his house and pay treatment center services for me (my dad declined, as it wouldn’t be appropriate…).
But finally, both my parents and I sat down and discussed.
We ruled out the non-option of admitting me to a treatment center. With my dad’s salary, our lack of property (my parents rent a townhouse), and $0 balance in bank savings, it would be financially impossible for me to go to a treatment center, where a 30-day program would cost more than $30, 000. Especially because I didn’t have insurance either, there was no way we could afford that.
However, other than financial reasons, neither my parents and I felt that treatment centers would be good for me. As my dad said: “If treatment center was a solution to your issues, I would absolutely do anything I can to get you there, even if I have to cut off my own limbs.”
Lasting success rates at treatment centers are extremely low, and especially after meeting my first anorectic at Northwestern, I knew being surrounded by a group of ED twins would be detrimental to my mental and spiritual health. I didn’t want to pay an insane amount of money only to immerse myself in a toxic environment of ED rivalries and comparisons, where I would inevitably pick up ED-related tips and tricks.
Please understand that I am not condemning or dismissing treatment centers. I know a few individuals who have benefitted from these intensive in-patient programs (though I have yet to meet someone who has since then completely recovered).
But through many deliberations and prayers, both my parents and I decided that admitting to a treatment center was not the right thing for me. We all knew who the best doctor was: God. Of course, sometimes God uses medical doctors to treat us as well, but in this case, after intensive prayers, we all concluded with strong conviction that God Himself wanted to treat me personally.
Thus the three of us held hands, and prayed out loud: Oh Jesus, we need you. Please walk and lead us through this trial. Guide us with your wisdom, compassion, and power.
And then, we formulated a plan. Since I was not going to go to a treatment center, we decided to create a mock treatment center program for me:
- I relinquished my meal plans to my parents, and we agreed that I needed three full meals and two snacks daily.
- My mother would cook every meal for me, and I would eat whatever she put in front of me.
- All three of us would eat meals together; I was not to eat a meal alone, but I would be responsible for preparing my own snacks.
- Especially right after a meal, I would spend most of my time with one of my parents (usually my mom) so that I would not act impulsively on my anxiety attacks or obsess over what I ate.
- And every morning, I would have bible time with either my dad or my mom.
It was with great excitement and trepidation that I agreed to these terms. I remember thinking, Finally, it’s happening. My goal to return to Northwestern seemed less of a dream than a destination.
I couldn’t sleep that night. Part of the reason was because my protruding tail bone and hip bone pressed painfully against my thin, cushion-less skin. The other reason was because I was scared shitless. I knew it was this or nothing. I have to make this happen, I repeated to myself over and over. I have to go back to Northwestern. If I don’t, I have no purpose to live.
Thoughts to Ponder:
1) I’m curious. Which of you have been to a treatment center? What was your experience there like for you? Was it beneficial?
2) For those of you who did struggle with an eating disorder but did not go to a treatment center, what were the reasons?
3) If money was no problem…would you admit yourself to a treatment center? If you’ve already been there, would you admit yourself again?
Related posts:
{ 36 comments… read them below or add one }
I never went to a treatment center, though I was threatened with it if I didn’t get better on my own. I supposed I was never “bad enough” although I don’t know what the qualifications for that are. I was pretty darn sick.
I suppose the reason I never went is because my mother is an Eating Disorder specialist and believed I could do this on my own. The nutritionist and therapist were helping, so as long as I continued to see them I was allowed to do this on my own.
I’m glad I never did. I too think it would have been toxic for me. Since I was already suffering so badly from depression and anxiety I can only imagine that type of living environment away from normalcy, friends, and family would have made it worse.
It’s funny because I think a significant part of motivation for me to get better was after going through the process of figuring out if I could go to a treatment center. From pure frustration of realizing that there was no realisitic possibility for me to be able to afford to go there. I wasn’t in enough of a “danger zone” to get help from insurance….and well, it just sucks that it costs that much. I think I was so disgusted with it all, it really helped push me into getting better. WITHOUT a professional ”team”. I said f-it, I can do this alone! Well, not alone, but you know what I mean
I think it’s 10x more gratifying knowing that I commited to recovery on my own and got to a healthier place.
I went to a treatment center twice-four if you count all of my mental hospitalizations. I didn’t go, because I had lost too much weight though. The last time I went it was because I was extremely unstable on my medications and needed a med change. All of the times I went it was also because I was extremely depressed and nearly suicidal. Sometimes I was hallucinating. With me, my eating disorder is connected to my schizoaffective disorder so when I don’t eat, I become suicidally depressed and my schizo symptoms act up. So I have to be hospitalized. I almost wish that I could have worked out some kind of plan with my parents like you did, but for me the problem is really more a medication issue. If it hadn’t taken me so long to finally realize that I need to take my meds every day than my eating probably wouldn’t have gotten out of hand, as I don’t tend to have much trouble eating when I am not depressed and schizo.
Because of that, I can say that I am one of the few people that has gone through treatment for an eating disorder and is in successful recovery for it. I know several other people who can say that too. I am really glad that I went when I did-the last two times, the first two times were unfortunately not as good a hospital. Besides getting stablized on my meds, I went to some really great groups that let me process my feelings and being forced to eat regularly helped. Of course, there were some triggering moments, but for me, I needed the hospital, because I was too unstable.
I did go into treatment centers twice the first time I was sectioned and spent 8 miserable weeks with a feeding tube where I decided nobody but me would ever have control of what went into my body again – I came out physically much better but mentally much much sicker.
The second time I went in of my own accord but wasn’t ready… I learned behaviors there that I am now struggling to forget…
This time I am working out patient with a therapist and psychiatrist and nutritionist all of whom I trust and we are working towards a common goal of recovery without hospitalization (ohhh and I’d like a real recovery not one where I start slipping right after). That said, Friday I was feeling all positive about recovery and today I kind of what to run away to Canada and keep my eating disorder (clearly I won’t but recovery is scary)
Thank you so much for sharing your weekend Ed series. For me I like seeing how far you’ve come and that recovery is possible
The money issue was different for me. Although some people have medical insurance here in the UK, because we have the NHS, many of us (including me) rely on that alone. It is shocking how ill you have to be to access state assistance, and this goes for any illness, not just EDs. I had to campaign for specialist help after being put on a general hospital ward which wasn’t equipped to give any kind of help for EDs…they often didn’t even provide me with food or medication!
I would definitely say that staying in a specialist unit saved my life, but in terms of full recovery, I’m not sure it’s necessarily the best answer. It provides an artificial environment, and I feel like I’ve been doing my recovery all over again in the ‘real world’, which feels much harder on many levels.
Sarah x
I was never admitted to a treatment center because I generally kept my disorder a secret from my parents. They knew what was going on and my mom was always getting frustrated with my stupid ED habits, and I decided to recover on my own. During that recovery I somehow decided that I wanted to recover “the good way” and I started exercising and eating healthy meals… but still counting calories in my head. Eventually this got a little tedious and my mom confronted me after one of my dance classes; I was so dismissive of her opinion (because it was over-exaggerated, but she had a point) when she frustratedly cried, “You burned at least a thousand calories at class, and all you’re gonna eat is a measly egg?” That’s what I wanted because at that time I knew that I needed protein after a workout, but I was never getting enough because I didn’t want to “get fat”.
We got into a huge argument and after my mom went downstairs to prepare my measly egg, I retreated to the bathroom and sat on the floor crying my eyes out. I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cried in my life, and what I didn’t know was that my sister was listening next door. I thought she had gone downstairs, and I was startled when I came out. She talked to me quietly and calmly and told me that I either try to get better or go see a psychiatrist. I actually didn’t want to see a psychologist or a nutritionist or go to a treatment center because at the time I did believe I was getting better, and I was.
i went to a treatment centre.. in singapore, it was terrible, honestly. even looking back, the only positive thing i can say is that it did technically save my life, got my bloodwork done and all that. but it does little if anything at all in the long run. i remember how all the girls there would constantly obsess over meals, albeit secretly and quietly. everyone always pondered over the meal menu, (we were allowed to choose what we wanted to eat, but it had to be approved by the dietician eventually). also, we all, yes i did join in eventually, always found ways and means to fool the doctors, often picking things up from each other.
everyone turned really cunning, including me, and i’m not proud of it. it was a terrible time, and the number of readmissions after ‘recovery’ (which is deemed to be substantial weight gain) speaks for itself i think..
i went to a treatment centre.. in singapore, it was terrible, honestly. even looking back, the only positive thing i can say is that it did technically save my life, got my bloodwork done and all that. but it does little if anything at all in the long run. i remember how all the girls there would constantly obsess over meals, albeit secretly and quietly. everyone always pondered over the meal menu, (we were allowed to choose what we wanted to eat, but it had to be approved by the dietician eventually). also, we all, yes i did join in eventually, always found ways and means to fool the doctors, often picking things up from each other.
everyone turned really cunning, including me, and i’m not proud of it. it was a terrible time, and the number of readmissions after ‘recovery’ (which is deemed to be substantial weight gain) speaks for itself i think..
God is our heavenly Physician. The only one that heal us inside and out. Amen to that!
Hi Sophie,
Hi all the way from Singapore
Stumbled upon your blog about a week ago, and i cant stop reading. Love your creativity! ED sufferrers have a special place in my heart cause one of my very good friend was one. You cant help being affected!She was also hospitalised a couple of times, and in the nick of time too, like you. It is so heartwarming to know that God was the one who healed.
Your sister in Christ,
Joan
This post is so interesting, because what you are describing is basically a form of the approach to eating disorders which has the best success rate at the moment – family based treatment. The idea is that the parents take control of the food, support the person at meal times and afterwards and create a hospital environment at home. A lot of research suggests that it’s a very successful approach, possibly more so than inpatient treatment.
I was never an inpatient, but I did a day programme, and it failed for most of the reasons you’ve outlined. The bitchy environment, the impersonal staff, the disconnect between the programme and my life at home. I relapsed as soon as it was over and got very sick again. I eventually had to coordinate my recovery alone at home, and it was only then that I recovered fully.
I did the treatment center but only on an outpatient basis. This was against their recommendation and I had certain weight goals to meet as I progressed. But I was an adult with two small kids. And I came on my own accord. Doing the meal planning on my own, doing the struggles in the world of everyday life was freaking hard. But it was also a bigger reward. I have had my issues along the recovery path and I hesitate to use the word “recovered” yet. Right now I am doing a spiritual journey about healing my relationship with God as I think it is the last piece of the puzzle in recovery. None of these things would have I ever found in a treatment center.
I went to inpatient treatment, but to be honest, it was probably similar to what you describe your medical hospitalisations to have been like. I’m in the UK, so if you’re noncompliant admissions are short (mine was 2 months) and usually a kind of band-aid ‘just make them eat’ approach. Like, I was really medically unstable so it was a case of fix that, get my weight to a slightly safer point, then I self-discharged. I’ve never done a ‘full recovery’ programme of the kind I think is being discussed here, not because it’s not possible on the NHS but cause I never would have complied when I was ill. Basically I had a heart attack, some kind of epiphany, then started to eat on my own at home. Then I recovered. FWIW, I also have probably only known about three people who fully recovered after IP treatment. on the otherhand I’m so so skeptical of family based treatment for adults – did it work for you? I’m really curious now
It is so great that your parents were so supportive and understanding of your specific needs. In the end, it looks like things did work out well for you, but I am curious to see if anything else happened between this mock treatment and your current state.
Sophia, you don’t understand how time appropriate and healing these words are! As I struggled to pack on a few kilo, my parents and I have embarque in our own ad-hoc treatment centre here. Clearly i’m not critical anymore (never more!) but I am scared poo-less of relapsing. We’re following pretty much the same rules you guys set out for yourselves. It’s day 3 and it’s going well. My hip bone still hurst me at night, though.
You know, the treatment centre for me was necessary. Simply put: I needed medical attention 24/7 or I would have died. There was no at-home palliative. But, in retrospect, there is something inherently flawed about treating anorexia solely with group therapy. Motivations are too different, people share tips, the pettiness and cattiness that unfolds isn’t always necessarily helpful. I don’t know… I think a combination of private and group support would be optimal.
Thanks for this series Sophia, please keep it going!
I did go inpatient, though I wouldn’t call it a “treatment center” … it was in a medical hospital, but with an eating disorders protocol. It was a mixed ward, though, and as bad as the experience is on its own, having a bunch of other patients there making ignorant comments didn’t help matters. (“You don’t look like you have an eating disorder… you’re not even skinny!”) The staff didn’t really care much either way. The whole experience felt so … impersonal, I guess. Not that I was expecting teddy bears and rainbows, but it would have been nice not to feel like a specimen under a microscope.
Honestly, I think that the experience possibly left me worse off than before I went there. There is a reason why I prefer not to base my personal relationships on the common ground of an eating disorder: my mind is crazy enough, and I don’t think adding someone else’s disordered habits to my own is such a great idea. Because the things I “learned” there stayed with me a lot longer than all of the weight I put on there!!
<3 <3
you have such great parents
i never went to a treatment centre because my mum didn’t realise what was going on and i was too ashamed to tell her. she would complain about how thin i had become and how little i was eating but it didn’t cross her mind that i was becoming anorexic. that and i didn’t feel i was ‘sick enough’ to require hospitalisation. my bmi was about 17.4 so i never got very thin.
i pretty much did recovery on my own, although at first it spiralled into binge-eating. after awhile my weight stabilised at a healthy point and it calmed down. i still have some issues today but i try to catch myself before it goes too far. (:
In all honesty, there is a part of me that always knew that something like a mock-treatment centre would be the only thing to truly work for me. I remember two Christmases ago I relinquished my meals to my parents… but it failed because they weren’t available to constantly cook for and eat with me, and they are kind of horrible with anything that has to do with ‘tough love’. I love my parents dearly and they have been my recovery angels, but that doesn’t mean that they were capable of strictly enforcing recovery rules over me. I remember wanting desperately for someone to just take away my food choices and pave the way for me to heal my body… but it never came.
Thanks again for sharing so much of your personal story Sophia. I’m thinking of you
Is interesting, because like sine of the other comments, my friends who went to treatment centers had experiences like your hospitalizations. It was a starting point to get them medically stable and give them persons to contact during the recovery period.
Your parents really are angels! I loved reading this post. You really are honest with everything you write and that is one of the many reasons I appreciate you and your blog!
Well you know I never went to a treatment center, Sophia, and I think it’s mainly because I was never really light enough to even be characterized as having anorexia. Close (like within .1 or .2 on the BMI) but not quite there (and aren’t those such STUPID numbers since anorexia is mainly a psychological disorder…ugh). I do know people who have gone and are now recovered but many of them still check in with nutritionists every once in a while just to make sure that everything is okay. I truly believe that the only way to recover is to really want it and throw yourself into it. You cant do it only because someone else tells you to, otherwise it will never stick. This is why I think that recovery centers work for some and not others. If you weren’t fully committed to begin with, then it’s so easy to slip back into old habits once you get home.
I’ve never been to a treatment center and never wanted to. I technically wasn’t “sick enough” but knew what i needed to do to get better and did with the help of my friends and family. it took me years on my own to regain the weight but at the same time it helped me adjust to the mental part i was having a hard time overcoming.
I never went to a treatment center, but my therapist told me that if I did improve that she would have to refer me to a center for ethical reasons. At times, I wanted her to put me in. But in the end . . . I’m glad I didn’t go. I think that the shock of have all training wheels off so suddenly upon release would have been overwhelming.
I’ve never been to a treatment center. It scared the hell out of me, but the main reason was that I knew I’d go on like before once I was out again.
Instead, I did the same as you with your parents, just with my mom (because the relationship to my dad is complicated, and it’s difficult for me to have him around). She visited me and stayed with me for a couple of weeks, and during that time, we cooked and are all meals together. It took away the anxiety and helped me a lot. I think my mom saved my life then.
your parents really are angels.
I have been underweight, but never dangerously so, and it was because of running too much without proper nourishment rather than mental obstacles such as anorexia. When people started alerting me that I looked unhealthy, my solution was reading up on sports nutrition and downing extra fats.
I do remember a time when taking a bath was painful because of my back bones and tail bone. So gross.
It’s very different in Ireland. In Ireland there are no actual ED treatment centre. In the whole of Ireland, there are 16 special allocated ED beds. There are absolutely none outside of the capital. All they beds are in two psychiatric facilities. My parents did not think it was appropriate that I would be in there, as there are many long stay patients there, and my therapists and all my doctors warned that in them hospitals, all the care about is that you gain the weight, and not much is done about your emotional reasons for becoming anorexic.
My parents made me a deal. I was allowed to go to college, but I had to go to the doctor twice during the week, and my therapist at the weekend, and I had to have gained during my first month.
Same as you, once I got the taste of college life, I knew that I couldn’t give it up.
i have private health insurance, and my parents could afford to send me to treatment, but I don’t think I would want to. I had amazing therapists and doctors, and of course most importantly my family. Same as you, I think being surrounded by others with eating disorders would make me worse.
That part about not being able to sleep because of your protruding bones, brought back so many memories that I didn’t even know I had suppressed!
I did not go to a treatment center. I never even was formally diagnosed as an anorexic. I self-diagnosed myself *after* starting to recover. (My BMI was well below the anorexic level and my mental state was… obsessive, depressed, and basically completely nuts.) My boyfriend (now husband) wanted me to get professional help but I refused. A “recovered” anorexic “friend” of mine also said I should get help. Eventually, after maintaining a low weight for about 1.5-2 years, I started to read health blogs. I actually initially benefited from blogs like Kath’s, and I increased my intake and intentionally gained weight. Unfortunately throughout the process I picked up a nasty habit of binge eating, which I still struggle with today (though it’s actually mostly gone now). I don’t know if that would have happened had I had treatment – possibly. If money was no issue, yes I would have sought more outside help. But I don’t think I would have benefited from a “standard” treatment center – from what I have read on blogs, it seems like everyone who is “recovered” after being in a center are not actually healthy (mentally, and sometimes physically as well). I would probably want to work with a nutritionist, or, actually, I would have loved to just hire someone to follow me around, make my meals, and give me moral support when I needed it. The following around would be so that I wouldn’t be able to restrict OR binge. The thing is, I also know lots of people who never got treatment who think they are recovered, but I think they need help. So I don’t know.
Oops I submitted before I was done. I think that the treatment plan that you and your parents laid out sounds wonderful. I wish that I had tried something like that. My parents didn’t really know anything about anorexia; my dad does not really show his emotions much, but when I was sick he almost cried – however he had no idea what I needed to get better. My mom was semi-anorexic in her 20s but she never got down to my lowest weight (we’re the same height), and she never struggled with bingeing. She didn’t really know what to do either, and I managed to convince her that i was getting better on my own. Anyway, I tink that aside from getting someone to follow me around all the time, your plan would be the next best thing.
You come from remarkably strong and loving parents. I’m so happy to know that you were able to recover from this. It is so good of you to share your story with others. I hope you have a great day. Blessings…Mary
Ive been to lots of different inpatient programs. I would say for the most part all they do is get your labs better and your weight more stable. The problem is is that your surrounded with ED 24 hours a day, in every group, every meal, and everyone your around. In fact, I believe my treatment made me worse, just because I missed it when I left so badly that I wanted to lose more weight to get back there because people understood my pain. I think there is definitely a point where treatment is neccesary (you become so physically ill) but I’d encourage people that aren’t to that point to stay out if possible. Finding a healthy support group instead of ones that are still stuck in the “I want to be anorexic” mindset, is so important. And honestly, I fully believe recovery is 100% based on if YOU want to get better. Not the family, not friends, not treatment teams, but you yourself. And if you do, it won’t be easy, but it’s possible. Otherwise, recovery can’t happen if you don’t want it.
It’s amazing to me (and I think I’ve mentioned this before) how similar aspects of all of our stories are even when the circumstances or specifics are so different. The idea that we can magically gain weight just because we “want” to, without actually having to go through the readjustment period of eating more than is comfortable (at first), sounds quite familiar!
None of my friends with EDs have gone to treatment centres, though some have ended up in hospitals for periods of time. I think the reason hospitals/treatment centres don’t always work is that, ultimately, a person has to deeply want to get better themselves, not just be told to. If only a magical 30 day program could save everyone!
I wouldnt be where I am today if it were not for a treatment center. My parents tried everything with me. We tried to do it at home, but I was too willfull and I would not accept help from them even though I knew I needed it. It was a terrible time in my life, but if it had not been for my parents admitting me into a residential treatment I might not be alive today. I know that my parents paid a fortune for me to be there, but I try not to feel guilty about it. I spent 10 months in residential treatment and I am grateful for everyday I had there!
I went as an outpatient — they were not willing to treat me as an outpatient but I begged my way in….long story short I got kicked out for losing weight and no I am not “recovered” fully. However it diod help me quite a bit….namely it got me to begin eating.
I think every little bit helps, and everyone is different but you are right. It’s not the center it’s the person.
i went to a treatment center for 4 months, and it was an awful experience. the staff kept telling me i was going to hell and that i would never recover unless i accepted jesus christ as my savior (i’m jewish!). they also had a real problem with me being vegetarian, even though i had been for years before my ed and i had my doctors and family from back home call and verify. they told me that if i ate meat once, it would prove that me avoiding it wasn’t part of my ed and they would let me be vegetarian after that. so i did, i ate a chicken salad sandwich, crying. and then they told me that since i ate the sandwich that just proved that i didn’t care about animals at all. it was horrible! the only good that came out of that place was that i stayed mostly healthy afterwards, because every time i lost wt someone just had to mention sending me back there and you better believe i started eating again!
I’m going back and catching up on these posts. So incredible — I am especially impressed by your introspection.
I was on the verge of being pulled out of school by my parents. Retrospectively, I probably should have been. But, that never happened and I was basically on my own in recovery (my family lives 3.5 hours away and would have come down in a heartbeat, but I insisted on my independence). What really helped get me through was finding a nutritionist, a doctor and a psychologist who I felt very comfortable with.
What my experience ultimately showed me is that recovery is different for every person, because eating disorders are different for every person. I don’t think there’s a one-size-fits-all formula that would/could ever work.