Stories of Healing: Chelsea

Chelsea never thought that deciding to purge just once would be the beginning of a ten-year struggle with bulimia. She didn't think that she was sick enough for treatment, and even if she was she had no idea how she would afford it. Rock Recovery's weekly meal support group was Chelsea's first step to a life free from an eating disorder.

Like many, my eating disorder can be traced back to my childhood. Between my mom having her own history of eating disorders and the constant messages I received from the media, I was acutely aware of what my body should look like, and how it didn't match that image.
One of my earliest memories was feeling like it was my fault when the clothes we'd ordered from catalogs fit too tightly and needed to be sent back. (Growing up in remote Alaska, in-store shopping wasn't an option.) These feelings led to becoming absorbed in trying to alter my body through endless diets and exercise as a teenager, never happy with the results.

Chelsea at Rock’s Building Bridges gala (2022)

One day during my senior year of high school, after eating a big piece of delicious, homemade chocolate cake we won at my town’s annual Halloween Carnival, I decided to purge, "just this once," I told myself. Of course, that was only the beginning. For the following ten years, I struggled, mostly in secret, with bulimia.

Sometimes my purging would happen multiple times a week, where I would spend too much of my day in shame on my knees in the bathroom. Sometimes my purging took the form of exercise, where I would run longer and longer distances. Always, I wished I was smaller.

For a long time, I knew I needed help, but I never felt sick enough to pursue it, and money was also a barrier. In my mind, treatment was for people far sicker than me, or those who had wealthy parents who could pay for it. I convinced myself I had to recover alone.

So, although I'd have days, weeks, and even months of "doing well,” my behaviors were always present. Instead of addressing my emotions, I would channel my energy into restriction, and when the raw hunger would inevitably arise from months of dieting and overexercising, I would turn to binging and purging, further punishing myself and only worsening my problems.

In 2019, during a particularly low point, I realized that maybe it was time to get help. I decided to start seeing a therapist who didn’t have experience with eating disorder patients but was covered by my insurance, and therefore one I could afford. In one of our first few sessions, she suggested something that would change my life: to consider joining an eating disorder recovery group.

Intrigued by such a simple idea, I jumped on Google and found Rock Recovery’s Breaking Bread program. Close to my apartment, Rock offered sliding scale pay, an important factor for me, so I didn't feel like a burden when I asked for financial help. Instead, it was a simple step in the application, thanks to the program's generous donors.

Rock was the turning point for me. It gave me a group to help me stay accountable, feel less alone, and think of recovery as something in reach. Among many valuable lessons, the weekly sessions taught me what normal meals looked like, how normal fullness felt, and how to process emotions of the week with kindness instead of judgment. Rock motivated me not only because group members further in their journeys demonstrated recovery was possible, but also because I felt when I worked hard and showed progress, I could give hope to group members who were struggling.

Through Rock, I was encouraged to see a therapist who specializes in eating disorders, and to start seeing a psychiatrist, who diagnosed me with anxiety and depression. I learned that my "love of long distance running" was, perhaps, just another type of restriction. I learned to face my feelings head-on instead of using behaviors to avoid them. I learned to focus on what truly matters instead of a number on the scale or the size of my jeans. I learned - and am still learning - to love myself instead of focusing on my flaws. Although my time at Rock was relatively short, it was a fundamental stepping stone in my recovery.

Today, I can proudly say it's been more than two years since I've given in to my bulimia. Last October, my boyfriend and I vacationed in Rome, where I had studied abroad my sophomore year in college exactly ten years prior. Ten years ago, I would force myself to go on long runs in the same park every weekend. This time, I didn't even pack workout clothes. Ten years ago, although I was living in a country known for its amazing food, I would carefully watch and limit everything I ate. This time, I ate what I wanted when I wanted, and didn’t think twice about it.

I’m not perfect. When I look in the mirror, I don't always love what I see, and when a piece of clothing fits oddly, sometimes I wonder if it would fit better if I were a few pounds smaller. But I remind myself that being perfect isn’t the answer, and that it’s better to be imperfect, diving into the deep, big ocean of life and all it has to offer than stuck wading in the shallow waters of my eating disorder.

I will forever be grateful to Rock for showing me that a full, rich, and meaningful life is possible, and for helping me live that life today.