Stories of Hope | We Chose Love

Stories of Hope are to celebrate those who are winning the fight to overcome addiction and mental health disorders in their lives. We hope it will be a great encouragement to families and individuals.

A Young Girls Story of the Power of Nutrition

“I am forever engaged in a silent battle in my head over whether or not to lift the fork to my mouth, and when I talk myself into doing so, I taste only shame. I have an eating disorder.”

My name is Kate Farrell, I’m 21 years old and have been struggling with anorexia for 9 years. I’m pretty sure that I was probably the last person anyone would expect to fall victim to an eating disorder. I grew up in a loving home under the watchful gaze of a mother and father who never once dieted or expressed any sort of discomfort around food or her/his body. They didn’t believe in microwave dinners or processed snacks, so I grew up eating healthy home cooked meals and freshly baked cookies, with the occasional store-bought treat thrown in for good measure. I was an athlete, growing up I played sports all year round so when I tore a ligament in my knee and was out for a few months, I had gained a little weight.

The first time I ever thought anything bad about myself or my weight was after a doctor made a comment about how much weight I had gained. I was only in 6th grade. That’s when it began, my obsession with food and calories, exercise and my appearance. By 7th grade I was running every day, playing sports on top of my own work outs, and limiting my food intake. I got compliments from my friends and family, I was getting the gratification I never had, so I kept going. By 8th grade I had gone too far, my doctors were concerned as were my family and friends. I got scared into eating again with the threat of hospitalization, but it wasn’t enough to make the thoughts go away.

Going into high school, I felt that I was in competition with everyone, the athletes, my sisters and even friends. I was determined to lose weight, that showed itself as going to the gym at 4:30am, then school, work, sports repeat. Everything was fine until the summer before my senior year, my body was giving up, my doctors were desperate to get me help.

Soon I entered my first treatment center, not knowing anything about it. I went in did what I had to do and restored my weight. It wasn’t until I started my senior year that I realized I hated recovery and everything it consisted of, I hated gaining weight I hated not exercising, and I hated myself.

Once again, I started losing weight. I was on my own secret mission and by the time basketball season came around I made it to mid-season. Then I became extremely sick. My heart rate dropped to the 40’s, and my body was failing me. I was admitted for the first time to a residential treatment where I spent a month and a half. Again my weight was restored.

Returning home wasn’t as easy of an adjustment as I thought it would be. Within two days of getting home I relapsed. I saw my body and hated everything about it. I managed to get through a partial treatment program and then lied my way to an IOP until April of my senior year where I again had to leave school and go back to a partial program. My treatment team agreed the day after I graduated, I needed to step up to residential treatment. I was barely at a weight/BMI (usually between 17 and 18) that would be accepted at a residential program. All I really wanted to do was graduate.

I hated my family for putting me in a residential again, I stayed there for three months where I continued to exercise and count calories. While there I also met some of my best friends. I befriended Lauren and Danny who soon became my closest friends. There was also a counselor Sarah T who was my rock. I gained a lot of friendships but unfortunately, my E.D. (eating disorder) was too strong and I was asked to leave residential treatment because I could not hold a consistent weight. A week after being home my treatment team threatened to section me – to be sectioned means that a person loses the right to make their own medical decisions – if I didn’t agree to an inpatient program. I said I would go and quickly went to residential treatment. I also complied when I was requirement to have a feeding tube. I did what I was told to do just so I could get out.

From that moment on I vowed to never tell anyone anything about my condition. I went for months exercising in secret, restricting as necessary, until I finally got discharged from another IOP (Intense Outpatient treatment) in October. I made it until the next April when I began noticeably losing weight. It was rapid, I was exercising all through the night. I would tell my parents I’m hanging out with friends, but I’d really be running around the streets and walking around stores, I was taking laxatives, I was water loading to fake my weight for my therapist and doctor. I knew I was getting sicker, my heart rate was in the 40’s again, and I couldn’t sit down on anything without getting bruised. I got stares when I went to the beach because my ribs and spine were sticking out. If I had to eat in front of my family I would exercise after to burn it off or purge. In the middle of this relapse I lost my best friend, LaLa, that loss dug me deeper into my eating disorder.

I got as far as August when I was threatened to be sectioned if I didn’t agree to treatment again. My parents said they were terrified of me collapsing on a run or dying. They were crying for help. At this point I wanted to get help because I was tired of feeling weak and having heart palpitations with every movement. I was tired of the bruising from sitting in a chair, I was tired of adding weights to my ankles to add 10 pounds on a weigh in, I was tired of water loading. Yet amazingly, I wasn’t ready to give up my eating disorder. I fought hard when I was admitted to Klarman Eating Disorder Center in Belmont, Massachusetts.

When I first arrived, I was fuming, I got out of the car and ran refusing to go in. My dad finally got me to go, my two sisters came with me, they were crying pleading for me to go get help. I wouldn’t listen. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. My dad had to carry me in the door to get me to stay. After a couple of weeks of not complying and continuing exercise, my treatment team decided to give me a break and go home for a week. My parents were pissed, they didn’t want to deal with me and my eating disorder again, what if I relapse and spiral completely out of control? My mom’s exact words when they made a call to the facility were, “what are we supposed to do with her?” Her voice was frantic, and I could sense the panic. That’s when I realized, my family doesn’t want me home because they think I’m going to die. I asked myself, “What am I doing?” My best friend died, she didn’t get to see the other side of recovery. Did I want that too? No! I begged and pleaded for them to let me stay, they said come back in a week. I went home and did relapse but once I returned, I was determined. Determined to tackle my exercise addiction and fears around food. I stayed there for three months, finally discharged and ready to go home.

I am not gonna lie, I do struggle, I struggle a lot, my weight fluctuates, but I still hang on. Almost two years since being discharged, the longest I’ve gone in years and I’m finally learning to nourish my body. There’re so many better things in the world than restricting and over exercising. For me, one is that I am finally social again. I’m going out with friends, I’m conquering E.D. fears. I’m actually living.

Funny thing, when your health is in check, your depression and anxiety gets better. Who knew nutrition was such a powerful thing?

A Young Man From Massachusetts

As a kid growing up I was a theater kid. Since I was five years old I would always be singing and dancing in every play I could. From the beginning, I always knew that when I grew up I wanted to become a famous musician that would tour the world and inspire people to chase their dreams.

Growing up wasn’t so easy for me. I was bullied in high school for being different and someone that people didn’t understand. Living with that abuse I realized I viewed life differently than other people my age. It altered how I saw the world and it made me very angry but more than that I was hurt. After graduating high school, I was asked to audition for a band, I remember feeling like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. When the day came I sang with all my heart. It impressed the manager of several groups and he decided that he wanted me to be in one of his bands. I said yes because I believed it would be an incredible life changing experience and that it was.

The first show I played with the band was at the Hard Rock Café. Unexpectedly, that was also the first day my eating disorder behaviors began, it was the first time I purged using it to cope with my anxiety. I quickly began using these behaviors more and more until I was hospitalized for stomach problems in Boston Medical Center but they never figured out what it was. The bigger shock was that I didn’t even know it was an eating disorder. I hid it so well that I myself didn’t realize it was there.

Being in the band caused me to obsess over my image, I started to compare myself to other bandmates and other people in the music industry. Each time I did, I believed more and more, I would never be good enough. Being on American idol deepened this feeling when I got eliminated. On the X factor I was in the top 32 contestants in the US but was eliminated because I forgot my lyrics. I later internalized the idea that I wasn’t good enough and my eating disorder was the main way of coping with anything and everything, but it still remained hidden.

Soon I began hanging with the wrong crowd, people that were up to no good and eventually I began experimenting with drugs and drinking a lot. This is not uncommon for someone with an eating disorder and I quickly found myself at rock bottom. By the grace of God I stopped hanging out with the bad people in my life. I knew they didn’t really care about me, I started surrounding myself with people who loved me and were great influences. I stopped using all drugs and stopped drinking heavily, I knew that I couldn’t let it take over my life and believed I deserved better than that.

I left the band in January 2016, I gave up on my dream and just wanted to live a normal life. There was something that kept me down and I continued to lose more and more weight. I was finally hospitalized at an eating disorder treatment center. It was in a residential hospitalization program where I learned that I am good enough to reach my dreams. I learned other coping mechanisms and truly began to feel hope. I also met so many incredible people but one in particular became a best friend and her name is LaLa. I knew from the moment I met her that God put her in my life for a reason. I was in such a dark place I felt like God had given up on me but LaLa made it a point to make sure that I knew God loves me & that He has such an amazing plan for me. LaLa was the type of friend who always had your back and if someone hurt me she’d always be there to side with me because she hated to see me upset or angry. She made my problems her problems. After progressing in treatment I moved forward to partial hospitalization, a less strict level of treatment and then to the an intensive outpatient model. After months and months of treatment I was finally back on my feet and began living a completely different lifestyle. Every day was different some days were great, and some were brutal. I got a new job and within a month and a half moved up to a management position. I began working a lot and learned how to hire, fire, train and do payroll. It was more pressure; many things began to stress me out. Before I knew it, I slipped back to my old ways of coping and began restricting and purging. Within a year of leaving treatment I found myself back in the residential hospitalization sicker than ever, my hair was falling out in clumps, my liver enzymes were elevated which meant that I was in the beginning stages of liver failure, and I was the thinnest I had been in a long time. I found myself once again needing help.

I spent another five months in treatment, but half way through I found out that one of my best friends, someone I loved so very, very much had passed away. It truly tested my will to fight my eating disorder. Losing LaLa made me feel like it wasn’t fair that I got to continue on and she didn’t. It broke my heart but I knew she wanted me to win my battle with my eating disorder, so I kept fighting.

I am fourteen months into recovery and I am doing better than I ever have. I learned that I was good enough to reach my dreams and that God has a plan for me. That plan is so much bigger than I could ever fathom but I had to struggle and battle to be ready for it.

I know my purpose is to inspire others. I am back in my band after a three-year hiatus. I am happier & healthier than ever and plan on going back to school next year for psychology. My goal is to specialize in eating disorders to help people the way that others helped me. God is so good.

Danny currently works with a team of professionals to maintain his recovery. Although, some days are not great. On those days he reminds himself; “My worst days in recovery are better than my best days in a relapse.”

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