What I Didn't Need To Bring To Treatment

The idea that I was going to be leaving in three weeks. Putting a time stamp on healing isn’t helpful or realistic. I do not believe there is a way to predict how long it will take each individual to work through their traumas.

The idea that other people were going to cure me and I would be back to my normal life. Other people helped bring me to recovery, but the work needed to be done by me. Without my willingness to do the hard shit, I was never going to reach recovery. To me “normal life” is being aware of my eating disorder but not allowing it to make any choices throughout my day.

5 pairs of leggings. FIVE PAIRS. Don’t even bring one pair. Leggings are form fitting and are not helpful in an environment where many individuals are working on not comparing body sizes, measuring, ect. Leggings can be triggering!

All of the MAC products I thought I could NOT be seen without. Especially any items that have mirrors built into them, anything sharp, ect. Don’t be like me and stomp your feet and cry when they get confiscated the first day you get there.

Fashion Magazines. I brought a bunch. I loved them then and I continue to be a proud subscriber to InStyle, Glamour, Teen Vogue, and Vanity Fair now. Of course, I threw another fit when these were being taken away from me when I got to treatment. Let me see if I can recall what I may have said, “But these aren’t part of my eating disorder!!! I love clothes!!! I NEED these!”. Ehm, what I “needed” was to realize that the things I fawned over could be trigger to the community that I was trying to merge into.

A razor to shave your legs, underarms, pubic hair, ect. You probably don’t even need it while you’re here. They will also take it away and give you a treatment safe one. Mine was purple and had pink swirls on it and I honestly never used it. #growth

An “I don’t belong here” attitude. When my brother first came to visit me while I was Inpatient, I was desperately trying to persuade him that I actually didn’t need to be there. That I was “normal” and didn’t fit in with everyone else. That my eating disorder actually wasn’t that bad and I could leave with him that day. And then he told me to shut up. That I needed to be there and had a lot in common with everyone there (truth) and that I needed to suck it up and stop being such a princess. Of course I wept like the princess I was but eventually did suck it up and met the most amazing souls there.