**** I had the most amazing Persian food last night. It was so freaking delicious that I thought my tongue would spring up and do a belly (tongue?) dance. You know those moments when you have that spoon in your mouth and all you can do is widen your eyes and go “mmm…mmMMM…MMM!!!!” It’s even more fun when you’re “mm”-ing with a friend in a town you’ve never been before on a Friday night surrounded by Middle Eastern diners.
I love these nights. And I’m kind of in love with my life right now. It’s not just about the good food, but about the daily sense of peace and satisfaction in my life as I feel at ease with who I am right now. It’s the same fulfillment I feel from writing these ED series. I guess that’s the power of words, because as I write these personal posts, I feel more and more convinced that everything is for a reason. I remember those time of darkness, but it seems like I’m in a much different world right now and looking back, I can see all the points in my life where God was leading me. It felt dark, but it never was completely pitch dark. There was still a ray of hope, and that’s what I really want to share with anyone out there who is suffering from an ED right now.
Peace to all of you. 
****
I haven’t been back home—the home in northern Virginia—for over a year, but every time I remember it, there’s still a twinge of discomfort in me.
I remember distinctly the structures of the little townhouse; the dark red covers in my bedroom, the outdated PC in the living room, the tiny bathroom that leads to a closet, the kitchen table scarred by all the heat stains left by pots of hot stews, the great big swiveling chair my dad always sat in after his night sermons. And for some reason, I remember the bad memories in those places more vividly than the good memories.
Maybe that’s just how we humans work. The negative images tend to stick clearer and more persistently than the positive ones. But for that reason, I always still feel a bit of suffocation when I return home to that house. It’s like a thin layer of the previous darkness is still lingering and shrouding over me when I enter back in. Maybe one day it’ll go away. We’ll see come winter when I go back home for the holidays.
After two years of being stuck in ED limbo in that house, two years of which I spent worrying, obsessing, self-accusing and self-destructing, I was so ready for a change of environment. I just needed a break from all of…that. I was sick of the monotonous of my life’s routine, and I felt convinced that having a change of environment would stir things up and maybe give me the firm push towards active recovery.
My parent go on a mission trip to Southeast Asia every year now, but it was twice a year at the time. They went once during the summer, and another time during the early winters. That year of 2008, my parents were planning to go to Singapore and Malaysia (and stop by Korea on transit) in late November.
I wanted to go. Whenever my parents left for their mission trip, I never did ask to come along. The number one reason was that with them gone, I could do whatever I wanted. I could be as anorexic as I want, and do a lot of shitty eating disordered things that I couldn’t do with my parents in the house. Yes, it’s very messed up, but that’s the nature of living under the watchful eyes of your parents.
That’s one of the reasons why I felt like I needed a change. Even though my parents were my best supporters, they were also unintentionally pulling me back because of their love. In a way I felt crushed by their love. I always felt like they were watching me, and I could feel that burn of disappointment and frustration in their eyes whenever I would do disordered things like eat a pot of Greek yogurt for dinner, or pepper my apple with way too much cinnamon, or eat the peel of a starchy vegetable and throw the flesh away.
In a twisted way, their silent disapproval made me want to do those things even more, simply because I wasn’t allowed to and I wanted to feel “free” to do everything I wanted without that accompanying guilt and shame (But of course, that was an ED deceit in deluding me into thinking that it was my choice to want to do those disordered things).
Another reason I wanted to return to Singapore was simply because I was homesick. Yes, northern Virgina had been my home for almost 7 years at the time, but a good chunk of those years were either spent 1) struggling to adjust to the American society, or 2) struggling with ED. Thus at the time, Singapore still constituted as “home sweet home” to me and I dearly wanted to go back to a place where most of my memories were fun and innocent.
When I first told my dad that I wanted to go to Singapore with him about two months before the actual trip, it was meant as a wistful longing. I was surprised when he actually took it seriously.
”Really?” he said, giving me a sharp, thoughtful look. “You really want to go?”
And there it was. A small peek of opportunity.
”Yes,” I said. And then my emotions choked up as I suddenly realized how much I missed Singapore. “I really want to go. Oh my God, I really, really want to go.”
I think my dad was mostly surprised because he knew how hard it was for me to travel and break away from the safety of home.
“You’re going to have to gain some weight before you can go,” he told me. “We’ll see.”
A “we’ll see” was 10 times better than a flat-out “no.” This was it. I had to gain some weight now. I had to make changes in my diet and routine.
When my mom heard that my dad gave me a “maybe,” she was aghast. “Look at her,” she said. “She can’t go! What if she can’t survive the trip?”
“It’s up to her,” my dad replied, and gave me a pointed look that said, “Prove her wrong. Make changes.”
It was only about two months till November. I had two months to gain some weight and make it stick. It was actually a perfect timing, because I was at a stage when I was sick and disgusted with my ED. After seeing how a mental disorder can disrupt and deceive a person, and slowly accepting love from others, I had made some significant mental and spiritual progress that instilled in me a genuine desire to make physical progress as well. I just needed one firm push, and the possibility to going to Singapore was that final instigator.
There is a time for everything. My time to start recovery had come.
Except the initial stages of this recovery wasn’t without its shortcomings. At the time though I was ready to gain the weight, I wasn’t really ready to eat everything and anything I wanted. I still couldn’t exactly stop my diet ruts, and I still had a deep fear towards “unhealthy” food like refined and processed products.
So what I did to “change” was simply drastically hike up my caloric intake. My goal was to eat at least 3,000 calories a day. But I aimed for that while still aiming to stick to “safe foods.” I ate a LOT of oatmeal, six times a day with natural, non-sweetened nut butter and organic coconut flakes and cups of roasted nuts and Greek yogurt. No 1/3 cup of oats for me; mine was about 2 cups (dry) oats at a time. Imagine eating six gigantic bowls of oatmeal with toppings each day. Times that by 60. For two whole months, all I basically ate was oats and nuts and nut butter and yogurt, simply because that was what I was comfortable with.
My justification for myself at the time was that I’ll probably be eating a lot of unhealthy fried and white foods in Singapore, so I should eat as healthy as I can before. Besides, I told myself, I’m eating so much calories so I’m already doing so good. I don’t want to freak myself out and slide back into my anorexic ways.
To be honest, I am surprised I was able to stomach that much, and be able to jack up my calories so quickly. I guess in a way, I did make improvements, but it was kind of the same half-way changes I made two years ago before I relapsed. I saw the dangers in it, but I was too preoccupied dealing with “being okay” with the caloric meals to be able to deal with yet another anxiety.
I gained some weight. I started gaining hope too, that I might really be able to go to Singapore. Each week I boasted to my parents that I was getting better, trying to sway their decision into securing an air ticket for me.
My dad prayed a lot about it, while my mom still shook her head no. Both were still unconvinced that I was truly “better,” because by then they knew that recovery wasn’t just about the poundage. But the more my dad prayed about it, the more he received conviction that something good will happen in this trip. God was telling him to have faith, and trust his daughter to Him.
So about a couple weeks before November, my dad finally gave me the answer I had been awaiting: “Yes.”
He ordered the air tickets. The dates were set. It was final. Oh my God. It’s final! It’s really happening! AAAAH! I’m going to Singapore!!!!!! I was so deliriously happy, yet everything felt so surreal. I still remember having sudden periods when I would suddenly realize “OMG! Singapore! It’s real!” and my lips ripping into a foolish grin in the middle of typing or walking. That was how happy I was, and suddenly I realized it was too long since I’ve felt this kind of pumping excitement inside me.
The next five weeks swept past quickly. My mother left first because my maternal grandfather wasn’t feeling well, so there were two weeks before the trip in which it was just my dad and me in the house (brother was in college). There was definitely once again that struggle to succumb to destructive and restrictive behaviors with one less set of eyes watching me, but somehow I managed to stick it out on my heavy oatmeal diet and gain a few more pounds.
But still, I lacked the mental preparation for the trip. I felt convinced that once I got on that plane and set my foot on new land, I would magically be able to eat anything. That, of course, wasn’t the case.
Questions to Ponder:
1) Do you still have trouble dealing with places that are filled with bad memories?
2) What are your thoughts on a change of environment and people? Do you think they are helpful to recovery?
3) Eating fear foods/breaking free from food routines, or ingesting calories. What were/are scarier to you? Or perhaps they are one and the same…
Related posts:
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I did the same thing too! My dad had said previously, before my ED started, that I could go to Europe in 2010. Then my ED happened. And for some reason, I thought that Europe was the answer and would solve all my problems. I had to do a lot of persuading because of my eating disorder, because my father is one of those people who think that EDs are completely controllable and he thought I was behaving ‘badly’.
But I got to go anyway with my mom and gained about 15 pounds in 3 weeks. I swear, alll I did on that trip was eat! But I got to meet some really awesome people and go to some cool places. I was a normal weight then but it did bother me. When we got back to the US, I had pizza at Newark Airport and….threw up. It just came up at that point from throwing up so much previously.
I do think my parents are some of the causes of my ED. It formed fairly because my mom started working all the time and I was alone all the time able to do whatever I wanted. So with that said, my parents’ house is just a minefield for me. I used to binge a lot there as well but I moved to Moscow (needed a big change) three weeks ago, I stopped binging and also depriving myself.
I eat whatever I want, vegetables are not necessarily easy to find here, and I feel so completely free of my disorder. It is probably lurking somewhere within me because I constantly don’t feel like I measure up and wish I can lose 10 lbs. But right now I am at a happier place than 3 weeks ago. I really don’t want to return to the US in 6 months (I’m studying Russian) because I’m so afraid that everything will be back to the same old.
The whole part of this post filled with excitement about going back to Singapore put a big smile on my face. I grew up in Singapore, too – at least in part – so there’s a personal connection for me. On my last trip to Singapore, I’m sorry to say, I was still mired in eating disordered habits… and actually had a stomach flu that my mom and I are half-convinced may very well have taken my life on that trip. I think, merely because I was in Singapore and dying to get off the bed and just get OUT there and enjoy Singapore, I managed to kick myself into gear into recovering from the stomach flu by eating whatever I could stomach without getting absolutely sick. Though, it wasn’t until half a year later that I was properly diagnosed… Anyway!
1) For me, my dorm room in one of the first-year residences on my university’s campus is a hell hole of bad memories. That’s where I fell into depression and developed an ED. I don’t know if I’d have trouble going back. Somehow, I think I would probably tear up and break down crying if I were to step into that room again. It should have been a place where I had lots of fun, where I hung out with the few friends I managed to make that year, but instead it’s a dark place of days of sleep- and food-deprivation, and incessant studying and dark thoughts.
2) I DEFINITELY think a change of environment can be helpful to recovery. For me, getting me off campus and getting into an apartment were a huge turning point. It really felt like a new beginning, a clean slate, and a chance to prove to myself that I deserved the better environment I was living in. Same for people, but not in the sense that “Oh I have to get away from those who know I had an ED” but just… I don’t know. Fresh faces are always nice. I guess I did meet some new people during recovery… Hm, actually, they were helpful. They got to know ME, as a person – and it did, like the apartment, give me a chance to start over with a clean slate. They came to know me for me, and gave me (I happened to meet new people outside of school, so…) a chance to let my real personality shine. The “outside of school” bit’s only relevant because, at school, I was of course “the smart one” or “the one with the 4.0 GPA” or whatever. The perfectionist. Bleh. New people gave me a chance to rediscover who I had been before the ED hit me, and who I had turned into through recovery: a much better person, for one, but also a much more ‘fun to be around’, sociable, happy human being. So yes, I think environment AND the people in your environment can be conducive to recovery.
I would argue that they are crucial, but I don’t know if that’s the same for everyone…
3) I was never afraid of ingesting kcalories, never counted them, never cared about them, and so didn’t have a problem with that. My problem was with OCD habits around food, so breaking those disordered habits was the most difficult thing for me. I did have a couple of “fear foods”, though I use that term loosely because, to me, there wasn’t really anything I was afraid of… I was just afraid of eating a large amount of those “bad” foods. (It’s easy (or maybe it’s only easy for me…?) to eat a fear food like a jumbo, glazed cinnamon roll if you only take a tiny bite out of it. That’s just my opinion… or maybe just my experience.) So for me, entering “fearful situations” was far scarier – such as going out to a Mexican restaurant to eat, or being presented with a bowl of macaroni and cheese and being expected to eat all of it. Thankfully, I’ve done ALL of those things mentioned in this point.
And… hey! I’m still alive! And I definitely still have a ways to go before I’m weight restored. I’ve also learned how amazing the body truly is. Even though I wanted to, I couldn’t finish that jumbo cinnamon roll… because halfway through, I was stuffed. Even my best friend couldn’t get through about one-third of the ginormous roll. My body told me I was full. Who’d have thought that to be possible?! Heh. 
Anyway… thanks for this weekend’s post! Always love reading them and reading your story. Can’t wait to read the next segment – which I’m guessing includes your time in Singapore. (<3 Singapore!) Great points this week, too…
Have a great Sunday!
It’s wonderful how open and real you are with your posts Sophia. I can relate to so much of it emotionally.
1) Do you still have trouble dealing with places that are filled with bad memories?
No, I stay away from them. I believe every place has an energy to it – positiive or negative. There are some places I physically just do not want to be. It doesn’t feel good there. I choose to saty away, and be in the places where it feels good (safe/good/empowering/peaceful/beauitful) to me.
2) What are your thoughts on a change of environment and people? Do you think they are helpful to recovery?
Yes, but I also cannot run away from my issues. Breaking away from past environments and people that are neagative is a wise thing to do – correspondingly i also have to change within myself to get healthier as well.
3) Eating fear foods/breaking free from food routines, or ingesting calories. What were/are scarier to you? Or perhaps they are one and the same…
Hmmm, the scariest to me is doing what is self-destructive. I want to take as good of a care of myself as I would a friend that I love. It’s all a gradula learning process of how to choose what works to support me in every way, as compared to what doesn’t and being unconscious about that.
Happy Sunday to you, Sophia:)
<3 You
Sophia, let's get persian food soon!
1) Do you still have trouble dealing with places that are filled with bad memories?
I still can feel a deep murky heavy fog of unhappiness come over me when I even think about where I used to live, the house my mom still lives in. I haven’t been there for about 3 years. I don’t particularly want to either since just thinking about it makes me feel the saddness again, on the other hand I feel I kinda need to/ want to get over that and just see it as any other place.- I tend to stigmatize it as “evil” in my eyes because of all of the bad memories..but..there probably wasn’t too much wrong about the place..it was like any other town..I think.
2) What are your thoughts on a change of environment and people? Do you think they are helpful to recovery?
Enviroment definitely can make the difference. I moved from that “evil” place with all the bad memories back to my childhood home in Los Angeles with my grandparents where I grew up…now this might sound bad but, this is the reasoning i had back then when I was way more sick and needed to gain weight; “If I move back with Gramm and Grampa in there area everyone is fat, so if I gain weight, at least I’ll look more normal, versus if I stay here I’ll feel too fat.”
so basically I wanted to be the least fat of the fat, thinking I’d balloon up at a “healthy weight”.
The people around also immensely can help or hinder…the people I’ve been around have never really helped though…I’m looking to find any that might, they don’t seem to be a reality to me.
3) Eating fear foods/breaking free from food routines, or ingesting calories. What were/are scarier to you? Or perhaps they are one and the same…
Breaking free of food routines is scarier for me. so is going over the amount of calories I feel I “should” eat. However breaking free of food routine is scarier because it puts calories in at miscellaneous times, versus structured ones and I’ll therefore be afraid of eating too many calories due to a messed up time frame. eating fear foods..It’s weird. I..uh, well I shut down on that one. Ha.. My brain shuts downa and turns off and I feel braindead and dull when trying to think about it. My brain does not want to thinka bout it…which I kinda like better than getting overwhelmingly anxious (the purpose it serves is to prevent this I suppose) but eating fear foods..is uneventful becuase of how I keep myself in this comotosed state of feeling nothing towards it (and then being a B**** the whole rest of the day because I try to tell myself it didn’t matter)
I definitely still have places that trigger memories- a shopping mall near Stanford University (I was hospitalized around there), my high school, certain places I bought food at during my anorexic-times, etc…it’s always in the back of my mind if I go to these places but doesn’t impact me as much as it used to
Eating fear foods was the hardest part for me- that and if I started to add up the calories I was eating (especially in one sitting)- that would in it of itself be absolutely overwhelming for me; but eating anything my mind branded “unhealthy” or void of nutritional value was a humongous struggle, and I still find it hard to eat a candy bar or bag of chips.
I LOVE Persian food.
My brave, generous, kind friend, thank you. It’s amazing how reading these posts, sometimes our experiences are so different, and sometimes it brings the realisation of how identical so much of what we go through is. Also, your introductory paragraphs were like words from my own heart. It’s so utterly, utterly gorgeous, to realise that you’re truly happy and that the demons don’t have power anymore, isn’t it? xo
Persian food sounds exciting!
I think my halls in first year have bad memories. I haven’t had to go back there for two years now but I have a gut feeling it would have a big grey cloud hanging over it. I think if I went up to my old room I’d have trouble going back inside without thinking about the papers of added up calories in the bin, the shopping lists everywhere that I didn’t even use, the bed where I’d lay awake starving for food…I think it’d get pretty nasty for me. I can’t even remember the first few weeks when I was happy, making friends and so blissfully ignorant of what was ahead – by Christmas I was in the grips of ED.
I definitely think getting away from the environment you are suffering in is positive. I’m fairly sure I’d have kept on spiralling if it hadn’t been the Summer break when it was. I had to get out of that room, that hall. As much as going home and facing my mum was a challenge, it was the place I needed to be.
For me, it was the fear foods that I remember being the hardest. Anything I had convinced myself as being “bad” was really hard for me to accept eating and took the longest for me to be comfortable with. The calories weren’t so bad once I’d realised how much I needed to get better but, for some reason, the fear foods were still so hard.
It will get easier, at first it is really hard and it may actually be painful to eat. Just try to be mindful. Really enjoy each bite, and try to remind yourself that the food is fuel for your body. You want your body to be strong and to be able to take you to do things like hiking in Singapore, or even just some sightseeing. The little things we take for granted are actually quite important. Like you said in one of your previous entries, when it was difficult for you to climb the stairs. Think of how far you have come! Don’t look back, just keep being healthy, and eating to build a strong body. If you are just stuffing in food to ‘gain’ to a certain pre-target weight you may be more likely to relapse than if you just stop worrying about how much you weigh and try to just eat mindfully. It has taken me so long to get to that point, and it is not a stable point – you have to work at it every day or you can regress. I am sorry to say that for some of us we have to have our guard up always and just be mindful and EAT! I am happy you are getting to go to Singapore with your Dad, it sounds like a fun trip! I would love to see photos on your blog whenever you go. I want to go to there to visit sometime soon (and Malaysia)
Oh this was two years ago! Haha, I’m in Los Angeles right now…won’t be going to Singapore anytime soon! My ED series is a retelling of the past.
Oops! I feel silly that I missed that ;P Well if you have been in recovery for 2 years then you are doing great! You still have to be mindful though. But I am glad to see you are doing well!
1) Do you still have trouble dealing with places that are filled with bad memories?
Yes I do, and I think it’s natural to feel that way. Though those feelings are a little less. I try to stay away from negative thoughts and places that eventually brings my whole mojo down.
2) What are your thoughts on a change of environment and people? Do you think they are helpful to recovery?
Yes, I believe in change of place and people. It gives us time to heal and ponder on life goals ahead.
Hi Sophia, thought I’d finally leave a comment on your blog because I’ve been reading for months now! Your ED series is my favourite, seeing as I’m struggling with one right now myself.
To answer your questions:
1) Yeah, I still have a really hard time with places that I associate with my ED. My house, my high school, my doctor’s office, and the hospital I was in all have really negative connotations associated with them. My old work places do as well. It brings back so much crap.
2) Mmm, I think a change of environment and people CAN be really helpful, but it can be negative too… I recently moved to a different city to attend university and it’s been such a relief to get away from everything (and everyone) back home, but it’s also been negative since it’s so much easier to slip when I’m not with my family. I guess it depends on where you are at with your recovery.
3) Hmm, it’s kind of the same… I’d say ingesting a certain number of calories is more frightening for me. But I can eat a fear food… if it’s the only thing I eat that day. Sorry, I don’t mean to be triggering or anything, I just didn’t know how else to phrase it.
I love your blog so much. You’re such an inspiration. And your photos are gorgeous!
Such great questions Sophia! I believe that a change of environment can be very helpful for certain situations–and not all of them are the same in their degree and so forth–so it’s not always the best way to change our circumstances either. Sometimes good, sometimes not.
And also, depending on what kind of inner struggle it is, then the first answer should be healing from the INSIDE to the OUTSIDE. Such a large part of our society keeps telling us that if we change our behaviors, then the cognitive (and spiritual) will change too. However, that’s definitely not how it works in God’s economy.
Like I always say, true and long lasting transformation begins from the inside out….
And I definitely have my few cities where the minute I step into them, I get funny feelings of heebie jeebies and strange memories!
I have truly forgiven the people who have hurt me or caused me to have those dark memories, but sometimes those thoughts can sneakily come back and I just pray that the Lord help me to keep a right/loving mind and keep on forgiving.
Awesome post, love!
Ugh, my exact feelings for Northern Va. I’ve lived here since 1994 and I’ve disliked this area since about 1995. All my friends (who didn’t grow up here) love the DC area but to me it seems so toxic. Whenever I leave this area, I feel so peaceful and when I return to DC, I get stressed out. I’d love to move but unfortunately I picked a field and a job with the federal government that makes it almost impossible to find a job in other parts of the country.
I wish I had worked to set up those weight gain goals. I think I’d be in a completely different place. Instead my parents and doctor gave me a month to gain weight or be hospitalized. In my mind hospitalization would KILL my career (I have to report if I go to a therapist/take an antidepressant and my ability to maintain my position is severly scrutinized if I were to go to a mental health facility). So I just started eating and never quite stopped. So I still have many of the same thoughts BUT instead of not eating, I eat. And honestly the results of the eating have made me feel worse. But I’m getting better: now that I’m taking baby steps instead of trying to jump in head first.
I remember those silent stares and glances from parents and friends. Uncertain how much they should say or what they should say. How you feel the whole world is judging you and you just want to survive.
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