Written by: Ryan K
Originally posted: 9/1/2015
Promised I wouldn't blog timeline-style often, but feels right. Also, at loss for words.
AUGUST 31, 2015
Wake up, get ready for fourth day back at work since June 2. Grateful for case manager's idea of slowly transitioning back on reduced schedule with full-day program following each work day. Few more days then back to full time and starting night IOP. Eep!
Coffee (thank you Trader Joe's cold brew!), breakfast, news and cigarette on front porch. Has become favorite part of day. Slightly louder this AM with Harvard students back, but so fun to terrorize. YA THINK YA BETTA THAN ME? 'CAUSE YA GO TO HAHVAHD? BET YA DAD'S A CEO! THAT WHY YA THINK YA CAN HOG UP THA ENTIYAH SIDEWAHK? HAHVAHD, HUH? I WENT TA HAWGWAHT'S! EVA HEAHD A THAT?
Think about how eventually a Harvard student will probably punch me and I will probably deserve it.
Get ready for work. Dance party hard with roommates. Love them.
Talk to counselor who stopped to check in. They saw a silverfish in basement and talk about how I badassedly killed one in resi. I am a legend of sorts.
Start heading to work.
Seriously comtemplate "coming out" on facebook (avoided facebook since May). Debated for so long, but am I ready? Feels right ... Tomorrow is new month. Almost new season. Also have program for processing. Sick of hiding, sick of secrets, sick of being sick. Sick of feeling "broken."
Decide I am not broken.
After doing some work, start drafting what to say. You know, if I go through with it.
Lunch with good friend from college. Discuss idea. Feeling more comfortable.
Run idea by others. Have support.
Feel good about draft.
Run to meet up with current roommate to see new apt in Central. Read encouraging group chat messages fromamazing friends.
Get home. About to do it.
Panicking a lot.
Hey y’all! I’m Kim and I’ve had an eating disorder for 12 years. In the last 9 months, I’ve been to two different treatment centers, most recently the Cambridge Eating Disorder Center (first residential care then partial hospitalization and soon stepping down to intensive outpatient). I’m still the same person, just happier and healthier. Having an ED was not my choice, nor is it about vanity. Nobody decides to have an eating disorder just like nobody decides to have diabetes. And unfortunately, no, the 70 million suffering cannot simply “stop.” But what we can ALL do is stop the stigma of mental illness so people no longer have to struggle in solitude, hiding too much shame to seek help. So there you have it! Me in all my glory. Finally raw, unfiltered, exposed. Hope you still wanna be friends, and if not, that's OK too.
Shut off computer. Can't stop shaking. Run outside with roommates.
Feel free as fuck.
Might pass out.
Smoke three cigarettes.
Start a three-person sidewalk dance party in heart of Harvard Square, performing hits like Teach Me How to Dougie and Snap Yo Fingers. For about an hour.
Roommates feel embarassed when passersby stare. Scream, "I JUST TOLD EVERYONE I HAVE AN EATING DISORDER! IF I WANNA BERNIE LEAN ON STRANGERS THEN I'M GONNA BERNIE LEAN ON STRANGERS!"
Start thinking not only will get punched but possibly banned from Cambridge.
Cook dinner. Still freaking out. Still avoiding phone and social media.
Roommate tells me to look. I do.
Crying. Tears of joy. Hmm. Different.
Start getting calls, messages, emails about courage and inspiration. Say what??
Freak out. Holy shit. Posted my fucking BLOG?? Blog was meant to be anonymous! Ryan! Not Kim! Ryan! SHIT.
Start reviewing blog to make sure shit's kosher.
Shit is not kosher.
Feel a little sick. UGH, wrote was sad about boys?? EMBARRASING!
Contemplate editing posts.
Reality check myself. Kim, how you gonna tell the world you have an eating disorder then modify stuff about dudes??
Close blog and attempt watching Shutter Island with roommates.
Turn off Shutter Island. We cannot focus (another roommate had big day too).
SEPTEMBER 1, 2015
Wake up for program. Look forward to processing the milestone in treatment.
8:30 PM on August 31 - present
Feel overwhelmingly blessed, grateful, loved, supported. In disbelief. So incredibly thankful to all who reached out with encouragement and faith. Slightly uncomfortable, but mostly touched.
Original post can be found at www.ryandoesresi.com.