I struggle with anorexia even now because eating disorders are complex and deadly illnesses. They manifest differently in each individual. For me, anorexia was not about being thin. And yet it was. That is the paradox of anorexia. I was addicted to starving, driven to be thin. I could never be thin enough, and it took years to break the chains of those thoughts. But have I completely broken free?

Today my doctor said to me, "You know, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to recover." I sometimes question if I do deserve to recover. I'm not proud of some of the things I have done in life. I have not always been the kindest person. I have sometimes ignored people who needed me. I have put my husband and loved ones through years of anguish and fear as I slipped further and further into anorexia nervosa and failed at recovery many times. I have made them cry as they thought that I could possibly die from my eating disorder. I blocked myself off from their fears and pleas, and continued to pursue thinness ruthlessly for years like a person possessed. All of these things make me question my worth and if I deserve to recovery. But there's something more. My doctor, a wonderfully perceptive man even when I sometimes sit silently and dive back into the safety of my thoughts, said I have this space within my brain that allows the eating disorder to tell me that I do not deserve to be happy, healthy, and free. This is so true, and I sometimes want to scream at the voices to stop and leave me alone.

A 2008 Harris Interactive study found that about 0.5 percent of Americans are vegan and 3.2 percent of Americans are vegetarians. That equals 1 million and 7.3 million respectively. That's a pretty low number. Why then does it seem that I know so many people with eating disorders who either are vegan, vegetarian, or practice some other type of eating different from the normal population?

Eating disorders and loneliness. It is not something we speak or write about often. It is painful to think about being lonely. But I believe people with eating disorders are often very lonely. It is the nature of these illnesses. But it doesn't have to be  this way. I would like to shine some light into these dark corners of loneliness, and perhaps help other people with eating disorders feel less alone.

The glare of the dressing room's lighting was unforgiving and pointed out every flaw — real and imaginary — on my body. My thighs were too wide, my stomach too round, and my overall body too short and squat. I didn't have the flawless, smooth and stubble-free underarms and legs of a magazine model. I wanted it to magically become wintertime again so I could hide my body under leggings, loose jeans, and oversized sweaters. I kept telling myself that the sizes didn't matter, that these labels were an arbitrary measurement most likely chosen with little thought by some clothing manufacturer in China or Taiwan. But part of my mind wasn't buying it. As I stood contemplating the clothes and the various sizes surrounding me, I felt a little dizzy and my first inclination was to run as fast as I could from the dressing room.

PHP IOP NG Tube AN TPN IP AMA . . . The first time I was hospitalized for anorexia nervosa was in June 2008. I left after 24 hours — AMA. The second time I was hospitalized for treatment my doctor informed me I would need a TPN. I was totally clueless about the acronyms and terms. It can feel like you are swimming in a vast sea of alphabet soup when you first enter the world of eating disorders treatment.

My therapist said to me today, "This is your recovery." Each person is unique, and that includes people with eating disorders. There may be a checklist of symptoms, but how an eating disorder manifests itself in each person is different. It is logical that each person's recovery process from an eating disorder also would be unique. Then why do I find I compare myself to others in recovery and often feel I come up lacking?

It was inevitable. The first step in recovery from anorexia nervosa is weight restoration. I knew that I had to gain weight and that it eventually would be noticeable.  I often wanted to crawl in a shell like a turtle during the early stages of my weight gain because I felt so different. So much larger. I took up too much space, and I still wanted to hide. I wasn't entirely comfortable in this new body. However, I slowly grew used to my body with its feminine curves, and several times I would look in the mirror and think how much better I looked than when I was emaciated and skeletal. But I knew what was coming... One day I was in the bathroom with a friend. She commented that the new weight looked good on me. Unfortunately, she didn't stop there. She then went on to point out the slight roundness of my stomach, and helpfully suggested I could wear looser clothes if it bothered me. It hadn't bothered me until then. But this seemingly innocent comment reverberated throughout my mind days afterward.

As a writer and online blogger, I often wonder about the power of the words. I write about eating disorders and recovery, and hope and pray that my words reach out to people and help them feel less alone as they struggle with eating disorders and recovery. I know it is a hard struggle because I have been going through it for four years, and I have tried to convey both the truth of that struggle and the certainty that recovery from eating disorders is attainable through my words here. I am honored and proud to have received the Web Health Awards Merit Award for "Surviving ED." I dedicate this award to all those out there who are doing the hard work of recovering from their eating disorders. This blog really belongs to them, and they are my inspiration as I sit down each week to write.

On December 28, 2010, I started the process of recovering from anorexia nervosa. Many people ask how I was able to get started when I was going through a multitudes of stressors. It really was very simple at its core—I woke up that morning, made my breakfast, and proceed to eat one bite at a time. It has been that way ever since.