Shunned from an online recovery community

The technique is effective and stunning. It is akin to shunning, which has been used by various religious sects and cults throughout the centuries to keep people in line — a member does something wrong and she is immediately cut off from the community. No contact. Access denied. The person is not worthy to be part of the community until she repents of her sin and delivers a mea culpa, promising to sin no more.

Last night, I went to my page at MentorCONNECT and saw a large, white square stating that I was banned from the community for two weeks. I started to cry, thinking what have I done?

I soon received my answer via e-mail. Apparently I had written a blog post which was considered "triggering" to some other members who reported it. This was not the first time I had written a blog post which was reported as triggering. (I will talk specifically about triggering a little later.)

I joined this community with the highest of hopes. The basic idea behind MC is to connect someone with an eating disorder with someone who is recovered with an eating disorder, the idea being "relationships replace eating disorders." The community also contains a variety of pro-recovery groups, such as recovery music,  how to deal with having an eating disorder while in college and others.

I started this blog, Leaving ED, initially to write through my feelings as I struggled with recovery from anorexia. I was surprised when people started reading my blog and following it via Facebook and Google. I felt gratified people felt my words worthy of reading, and the support given by my readers through the past years have often sustained me through some very dark times. I thank you and hope you continue reading, just as I have read many of your blogs and have been moved and enlightened by your struggles, hopes and honesty as you move through this journey of life.

MC also has a place to post blogs. I liked that idea; I enjoy writing and feel I have many things to say and sometimes do it well. I read through a few blog posts to get a feel for what other people were posting, and while I admit I did forget one rule with one of my MC blog posts (I mentioned weight, which is strictly verboten), I tried very hard to not write things that could be considered triggering.

I first got an idea that my writing style and MC's incredibly unrealistic view of what should and shouldn't be written about (any mention of restricting or other eating disorder behaviors also is strictly forbidden) with "Acceptance???". I posted this in November 2009.

I wrote about my struggles to accept my body's additional weight and not feeling as if I conform to society's standards about what is beautiful, and it was a depressing post. But I do not feel it was anti-recovery. I was in recovery; I was moving forward and was finishing up my first semester of graduate school. But anyone with anorexia struggles with the weight gain, no matter how much she knows it is needed, and sometime accepting your new (and larger) body can be hard.)

I posted it on MC looking for words of support, just as I had written words of encouragement when I read about someone struggling restricting or bingeing or purging behaviors (I later found out that these posts also were swiftly removed and the writers either suspended, banned temporarily or forever.)

The next day I went to my MC page, looking for those words of hope. The white box, prominently featured in the middle of a colorless background, told me I had been suspended. Shunned. Cut off from the community.

I was stunned. The explanation was in my e-mail — my post had triggered some people and I could return in a week IF I could show I wouldn't do it again. I couldn't force myself to eat dinner that night, and I struggled with eating for several days afterward. I felt awful.

MC continued to send its daily and weekly mentoring moments via e-mail. These daily e-mails reminded me that I had failed, that I might have had actually hurt someone through my words, and were very triggering. Each one made me think I wasn't good enough, that I had failed at recovery and being part of a pro-recovery community. Each day, I felt worst and I wondered why I didn't just tell them to stop sending me the e-mails. My doctor advised me to leave MC because being suspended was hurting me so much. (He also felt the site and my increasing use of the Internet were taking the place of real-life human interactions.)

I didn't listen.

I returned to MC with much trepidation; I was afraid to post anything. I began to ask myself how helpful is an online recovery community if I was filled with fear every time I wrote anything, even if it was just I was having a bad day? I also received an e-mail from a former member who left after she tried to convince the administrators that a group for women 40 and older might be helpful (ironically, MC started such a group after this woman left.) She explained in-depth how uncomfortable she felt there and why she needed to leave for her continued recovery.

MC suggested running each blog post past one of their administrators before placing it on the site. I did that a few times, but I began to feel my writing was not completely honest. I was censoring myself because I was so afraid of again being suspended.

But I was suspended again after I wrote about being afraid of food in January 2010. It is almost impossible for me to describe how hurtful that was; the feeling of rejection was just one factor contributing to a downward spiral that I am still struggling with today.

Still, I wanted to be part of an online recovery community and I decided to try MC one last time. I began to relax a little when a few other members commented positively on my (censored) blog posts.

Then there was yesterday. A member posted on my MC page that my blog posts "inspired" her and gave her hope for recovery. Her comment inspired me to post "You are so much more than your body size." I was very moved by this statement by my doctor (it made me want to cry and it made me think) and wanted to share it. After posting this blog post, one woman on MC wrote she could relate to my struggles and had had this same conversation with her husband the night before.

That was the last comment I was allowed to read. I went back to the page about an hour later. The white box stated I was banned for two weeks. Shunned. The support community was not available to me. Because I had made a mistake. Because I am human.

I had had enough. Part of recovery includes eliminating toxic influences from your life and I didn't want spend the next two weeks crying and berating myself for being so stupid as to write a blog post that talked about the realities of recovery from eating disorders. I deleted my page (you are allowed to do that via the white box) and e-mailed MC, giving the group notice that I would not be returning.

I refuse to compromise my writing. Anorexia is a complex disease and recovery does not occur in a linear fashion, but instead moves in twists and turns and can manifest itself. Restricting and purging and cutting and many other behaviors do happen while recovering. We in the eating disorders community need to open the doors wide and be honest about the realities of recovery. We are either part of the problem or part of the solution, and I believe total honesty is part of the solution.

I also see my doctor's point about MC and other online recovery communities replacing real-life human connections. This experience has taught me that what I really need and crave are those connections, the everyday face-to-face experiences of talking with people, giving them hugs, the give-and-take of conversations which can include anything from talking about your struggles to the latest book you have read.

Besides, I already have an online recovery community right here. On Leaving ED, I can be as honest as I want and know that most people will not judge nor shun me. The support I receive here is phenomenal; I can't thank all of you enough who have read and posted supportive comments through the years. Your support has sustained me, your struggles have moved me, and your courage has inspired me.

Finding Angela

I am powerless against anorexia.

Those were the five hardest words I've ever had to write. It was so humbling to admit it — me, so strong and ready to deny that nothing is wrong and I can handle anything — and yet so freeing in a way. Maybe I don't have to blame myself. Maybe I can now accept anorexia as the disease it is, and turn over control to those who can help me instead of fighting against their every suggestion, every word. I now know that in order to recovery, I must change.

It also has started me thinking about who I was pre-anorexia, and as my mind floated back to that time of freedom, I felt an aching sense of loss coupled with an intense longing to yet again be that person . . .

I liked books and reading and was interested in so many things — religions, history, medieval times, the life and history of Anne Bolyen, the writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder and more. I studied many things on my own, reading about everything from the flu epidemic of 1918 to the catechism of the Catholic Church to the teachings of Islam. I delved into "The Chronicles of Narnia," exploring the strange new world that Lucy and her siblings found. I was one of the first in line to buy the newest Harry Potter book, and I couldn't wait to dive into my new books for graduate school (even literary theory!) Each new book was like a treasure waiting to be opened and just the smell of the paper and the crispness of the spine was thrilling.

Curling up with a book at bedtime, becoming part of a new world of each offered, devouring the words, no ED thoughts hammering at my brain . . . It sounds so simple, I know. It also sounds like a beautiful, healthy and normal way to spend an evening.

I cared about people, and did things to show that caring. I took part in an in-school program for years, where I was paired with a young student who needed a kind, caring adult to read to him or her and just listen to the day-to-day life of childhood. I remember one young girl, Anna. Anna had long, dark curly hair and looked somewhat like the daughter I've never had. She loved to giggle and was so smart; she didn't really need help with reading, she needed an adult to listen to her sometimes confusing and convoluted life. Each week, we would sit in low chairs, two dark heads bent over as we nibbled on our lunch and explored the different worlds inside books. She loved to talk and create her own stories, and I still pray that she is as healthy and well-adjusted as she was then.

My husband and I went for long walks, watched stupid T.V. shows, talking about politics and the books we were reading and played competitive games of Scrabble. We held hands, snuggled on the couch, and we didn't argue about food. We went out to eat after church on many Sundays, and the time at the restaurant wasn't spent watching my fear as I opened the menu and looked at all the frightening food choices.

I wasn't afraid to go to parties and other events. People didn't scare me then, and my mind wasn't consumed by anorexia. I could relax and enjoy the moment, and actually was considered an interesting and engaging person.

I could write articles without feeling panicked; I could read and understand the words on the page. I could eat without fear, I could be with people and not want to run away and hide any where I could find just to be safe. I could face a variety of situations and not feel fear bubbling up.

I miss the person I was, and right now I am in a period of mourning for that Angela, going through the stages of grief and wondering who I will be when this all plays out. I wonder if anyone else out there feels the same way, because it feels lonely to miss the self you were, and wonder about the self you will be after recovery.

Can I ever become the person I was? No. Time has moved on and anorexia has impacted me. I know I will never be the exact person I was before anorexia.

I want to become a better, stronger person; one who embraces life fully and without fear. I can either continue to be bullied by my anorexia, trying to hide from it (although no matter where I go, my mind is always with me) or embrace the growth opportunities that it offers.

I can let it slowly kill me — and right now, a part of me wants to let Ana win (Jesus, just get this pain over with already! I am so tired, just take me home to peace and love and rest; "For my yoke is easy and my burden light.")

I am ready to concede to Ana. I just realize I can't do it alone. I think of it as nothing less than preparing for war, for the more I try to move toward recovery, the more fire bombs Ana throws at me. She's been a real hissy bitch lately.

But as I think about being powerless, I realize that doesn't mean I'm not without strengths. I have a mentor, my husband, my friends and colleagues and perhaps most importantly, my writing; all formidable weapons against my arch-evil foe Ana.

Now it's time to unbury the Angela underneath Ana.