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Q&A With Trixie: Building Relationships

By: Trixie Hennessey

Q: Whenever I spend time with my daughter, I feel like everything I do or say might trigger her. How do I build a normal relationship?

A: This is a great question because I know that so many parents can relate to your dilemma.

I would begin by stating that as parents, we are always going to have ruptures with our children. Since there is no avoiding that, be honest and let your daughter know that you are probably going to do and say things that will trigger her, but that you will also be there to support her through being triggered. Ruptures and repairs are a part of all relationships. How we show up in moments of upset and distress is the key. Reaching out with understanding and empathy in those moments can create feelings of psychological safety and security.

We get to be perfectly imperfect and it is important to model self-compassion in moments of imperfection – those moments of rupture. In these ways, we give those close to us permission to show up more authentically and vulnerably as less-than-perfect versions of themselves, thereby fostering deeper and more meaningful connection.

In building authenticity, as your connection with your daughter deepens, you will become increasingly attuned to her specific triggers, maybe things such as changes in plans, meal times, or social challenges with peers. These clues will tell you where to focus your support.

We are not looking to pave the way for our children so that they will never be triggered; rather, our hope is to help our children to better handle a full range of emotional states. So don’t spend too much energy trying to avoid triggering her. Rather, model being able to handle difficult feelings and emotions yourself.

I often encourage parents to “speak the unspoken” by saying out loud what might be uncomfortably hanging in the air. Begin by asking your daughter what she wants from your relationship. Then, assure her that you can handle whatever comes up as you are supporting her through her difficulties. Let her know that you will not tolerate disrespect, or create different rules in order to accommodate her eating disorder. Continue to remind your daughter that you love her, especially when things are difficult and she seems to be angrily pushing you away. It is in these moments when her need for safety and connection will be the greatest, and she will be looking for reassurance that you will be there for her no matter how many times things go sideways.

In terms of outside support, your daughter would benefit from accessing outside services that can help her build skills around managing her distress. Help can come in the form of individual therapy, group therapy, and more intensive care offered in residential treatment such as at the Looking Glass Residence.

Lastly, I would encourage you to let go of the idea of creating a “normal relationship.” Cultivating healthy relationships is less complicated when we focus on all of the amazing things we do want in our lives instead of the things we do not want. Begin by placing less emphasis on the eating disorder and all the other things you don’t want in your relationship, and spend more time adding in fun, adventure, and silliness. And above all, spend time practicing and modeling self-compassion and gratitude. Encourage new interests that can support your daughter in building an identity that stands outside of her eating disorder identity. Identity is critically important as this is where the world validates and reflects back who we believe we are.

It takes some serious commitment and resolve to show up for our children in their moments of greatest distress, precisely because we are so connected. We feel one another’s emotions and moods very deeply, so you may find yourself swaying in the turbulence of her emotional storms and feel shaken in the aftermath. Hold steady and try to be the calm, grounding force and secure base that your daughter can seek out when she needs to find shelter from her eating disorder storm.

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Trixie holds a Masters of Social Work degree from the University of British Columbia- Okanagan, where she also completed post-Masters training in Neurosequential Therapy. Trixie is the Looking Glass Foundation's Program Manager and has been a part of our team since 2011. She is also a Therapeutic Consultant at Optimal Family Wellness. She lives in Vancouver, BC and loves hiking, photography, and being mom to her two children.

Submit your questions about disordered eating, mental health and supporting those around you to trixie@lookingglassbc.com. Through Q&A With Trixie, she will provide general advice for informational purposes only. For other inquiries and services, please consult directly with a licensed professional.

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2015 Gala Recap:

On Friday, the Looking Glass community gathered together to celebrate our past and share excitement for our future - and what a celebration it was! Some 400 guests joined the Looking Glass Foundation Board of Directors, staff, and volunteers at the Rocky Mountaineer Station for our 2015 Light the Way! Gala - the Foundation's 11th annual fundraiser.

Scotiabank's Senior Vice President, Winnie Leong, welcomed guests on behalf of the Gala's Presenting Sponsor. Ever-popular Howard Blank joined our lovely MC, Pamela Martin, for a rousing live auction. And the Moon Coin Show Band set the crowd dancing...

The highlight of the evening was father-daughter duo, Scott and Kaitie Hardy, who took the stage to share a personal story of their family's battle with eating disorders after Kaitie fell victim to the disease a few years ago. "A protective shell replaced the confident, funny young woman we knew", Scott reflected. "As a parent, I have never been so helpless or afraid. But that changed when we found the Looking Glass Foundation."

Kaitie joined her father on stage via video from Colorado, where she is completing her post-graduate work as a wilderness therapist specializing in eating disorders. "To me, the Looking Glass Residence was a safe home, and to them I was a person who just needed a bit of help," she remembers. "Without the Looking Glass Foundation, I wouldn't be where I am today - I'm not even sure I would be alive."

Opening the Looking Glass Residence (formerly the Woodstone Residence) was one of the Foundation's flagship achievements - the first-ever residential treatment center for eating disorders in Canada. A Summer Camp, online peer support program, and Scholarship program are among its other early initiatives.

"As much as we have been able to accomplish, so much more needs to be done," said Looking Glass Foundation Board Chair Malcolm Leitch and Executive Director Stacey Huget in their program welcome. "Today, the Looking Glass Foundation is continuing to innovate entirely new ways of providing support in all the places there are gaps - flexible models for group support throughout the province, facilitator training for volunteers, and prevention and early intervention workshops for those closest to youth at risk."

Our Light the Way! Gala raised $430,000 in support of Looking Glass Foundation services for people affected by eating disorders.

A big thank you to all our sponsors, auction donors and guests, and to Gala Chair Joanne Gordon and her amazing team of volunteers for all they did to make the night such a success. As co-founder Deborah Grimm said, "people suffering from eating disorders find themselves in a very dark place. Together, as a community, we are lighting the way for them - and for that, we are grateful."

Won’t VS Can’t: Living Brave

By Jenna S.

“I can’t do it,” my trembling voice said weakly into the phone. “Maybe you won’t do it, but don’t tell me you can’t do it,” she said on the other end of the line.

There are a lot of people that could have told me that. But this particular voice on the other end of the line was one that I trust, one that I value, and one that I respect with my whole heart. This voice has been in the forefront of my recovery and has talked me through several seemingly impossible moments, days and weeks. In my times of greatest need, this particular voice will remind me of two little words. Simple words, really. But side by side they are incredibly powerful. “Live brave” she says to me.

When she had first said it to me, I instantly fell in love with the phrase. I began to live by it and I realized that my new mantra couldn’t be flipped around to mean something negative. It was perfect for me because it ironically stated what we as humans are afraid of doing when life gets difficult.

But what does “brave” really mean? This is a question I have wrestled with over and over again but I think I am gaining a greater understanding. I actually understand this word best during times of trial – not when I am calm, collected and able to think straight.

The spring is always a tricky time for me. I always get excited about the fresh start to a new year, the blank slate, the new beginning. But the truth is I’ve had quite a rough start to 2015. Old eating disorder habits crept back into my life. I slipped back into detrimental thinking patterns. Deeply rooted issues presented themselves as lies that told me I needed to look a certain way and once again I began to believe those things.

I was blinded by the lies and I began to give up. I have spent the last two years working to build a life that accentuates and holds true to my values, and in the early part of this year I began to settle for much less than what I’ve worked so hard for.

There is no one solution to this - nothing is ever that easy. But then I remembered, “Live brave.”

Brave doesn’t always mean moving forward. Sometimes it means acknowledging exactly where you are. It means looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, “I am not ready.” Living brave means being honest and integral with your word. To live brave means that excuses have no place. You may feel stuck, so acknowledge it, and call it like it is and then live bravely by doing something about it.

I was convinced I couldn’t get through this rough patch because I didn’t know how. But that voice on the phone was right. I did know how to do it. I was honest and I was brave and in turn I was able to take the next step and I chose to move forward.

When it comes to recovery, “I can’t” is very different than “I won’t.” Living brave keeps me in touch with this reality. It keeps me honest and it helps me to live a life that reflects who I truly am.

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Jenna is an eating disorder survivor, alumni of the Looking Glass Residence (formerly the Woodstone Residence) and an inspiration to those around her.

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Waiting for Readiness … It Could be a Long Wait

By Trixie Hennessey

“Ambivalence is a reasonable place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there”

As a therapist, the issue of motivation comes up fairly often with my clients. Many people hold the belief that a specific level of motivation is a per-requisite for successful treatment and recovery from illnesses like eating disorders. Too often, motivation carries a number of presumptions, for example likening ambivalence to a lack of commitment or willpower. The problem is that when motivation becomes entangled with ideas around commitment, intentions, or a desire for meaningful change, judgments and evaluations of ourselves and others can leave us reeling with self-doubt and shame around our own level of commitment.

So where does motivation fit within our philosophy around treatment and recovery of people struggling with eating disorders, body-image and other mental health issues?

The truth is that individuals struggling with these things go through stages - sometimes their motivation to make change is greater than at other times. Ambivalence around letting go of eating-disordered attitudes and behaviours that bring comfort and misery in equal measure can leave anyone questioning their motivation. More important than evaluating someone’s motivation is to provide therapeutic support that meets each person wherever they may be and gently helping them get ‘unstuck’ by resolving feelings of ambivalence.

When someone is experiencing a great deal of ambivalence, waiting until that person is sufficiently motivated offers very little. That’s because when someone is struggling what they often need is more empathy, support, and acceptance in those moments when self-doubt and self-criticism are speaking the loudest. It’s important to identify ambivalence as part of the recovery and treatment process, not a reason to wait on the sidelines while someone struggles to “make up their mind” and become sufficiently motivated. Rather, a supportive and empathic response meets each individual wherever they may be in an effort to explore and resolve feelings of ambivalence.

As an emotion-focused therapy practitioner, I’ve come to view eating disorder sufferers as 100% motivated to recover but 110% scared! When ambivalence sets in, it becomes important to create structure and pull in a community of supporters that can hold someone up in the moments when they are feeling ambivalent. It is also important to share that feeling unmotivated does not mean someone is undeserving of treatment, and that feeling unmotivated is something that everyone experiences at times. This is especially true when someone is contemplating relinquishing the behaviors and symptoms that have worked to help them cope with or avoid painful emotions.

It is important is to plan ahead for those times when motivation is lagging. For example, it’s worth creating a motivation “memory bank” that includes inspiration and reminders of our long term goals. Another way to plan for the ‘motivation drought’ is to accept where you are at, and not try to will yourself into feeling differently. The idea is that you will invite motivation back more quickly if you can avoid the shame and guilt that happens when we constantly feel the pressure of what we should be doing.

Finally, remember to be gentle with yourself and avoid comparing your process with others who are in treatment and recovery because everyone has their own story and journey. Ultimately, optimism about the possibility of change leads to much better treatment outcomes than unhelpful evaluations of how motivated you appear next to others.

Yours in motivation and ambivalence,

Trixie

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Trixie holds a Masters of Social Work degree from the University of British Columbia- Okanagan, where she also completed post-Masters training in Neurosequential Therapy. Trixie is the Looking Glass Foundation's Program Manager and has been a part of our team since 2011. She is also a Therapeutic Consultant at Optimal Family Wellness. She lives in Vancouver, BC and loves hiking, photography, and being mom to her two children.

Our Kids Are At Risk

By Stacey Huget

Research into the incidence and impact of eating disorders is pretty clear on at least one score. Our kids are at risk for this devastating disease.

We know that eating disorders are the most common chronic illness affecting young girls and women - and are on the rise among boys and men. We also know that while eating disorders can occur at any time in one's life, the onset of the disease is most likely to occur in childhood and adolescence.

Anyone who has ever overheard a little girl ask a friend if she looks fat, knows that problems in the way children think about their bodies begin young. Research suggests that children as young as 5 have clear associations around the concept of dieting -- that it has to do with restricting food intake, losing weight, and getting thin. One has to wonder why any 5-year old, anywhere, is thinking about diets at all.

The truth is, kids are thinking about their bodies a lot - and not always in a positive, healthful way.

Research into high school students reveals a disturbing preoccupation with body image and weight control. Nearly 40% of girls in grades nine and ten think they're too fat, including 20% of those whose weight is normal. Some three out of every ten girls in grades nine and ten are trying to lose weight. Not all of these weight loss efforts are healthful ones. Studies differ, but as many as 50% of girls and 33% of boys in their teenage years say they engage in fasting, vomiting, laxatives, diuretics, diet pills, meal skipping, or even smoking in an attempt to control appetite and lose weight.

It isn't difficult to imagine how these extreme dieting practices can escalate into disordered eating. One study of 14 and 15 year old girls found that those who engaged in strict dieting practices were 18 times more likely than non-dieters to develop an eating disorder within six months, and had a 20% chance of developing an eating disorder within one year. Even girls who dieted moderately were five times more likely to develop an eating disorder within 6 months than non-dieters.

The consequences of disordered eating among children and young people can be devastating - physically, emotionally, and socially.

We already know that eating disorders can trigger a raft of serious physical consequences at any age - affecting ones' skin, hair, teeth, nails, as well as ones muscular, nervous, and cardio-pulmonary functions. They can also delay or retard healthy growth and sexual development - critically important during adolescence.

Emotionally, disordered eating can wreak havoc on our kids as well - with anxiety, depression, irritability, guilt, shame, fear, mood-swings, apathy, withdrawal, a loss of resiliency, and even thoughts of self-harm.

It isn't surprising that children and youth suffering from eating disorders, weight, and body image issues frequently withdraw from school and recreational activities. We know that our kids' preoccupation with body image influences how they interact with each other, with teasing and bullying being one result. Victims of weight-related teasing and bullying have been shown to be more likely to eventually engage in binge-eating and extreme weight control behaviour. These youth relate less often, and less well, with friends. They lose interest in life in general. Kids feeling this disconnected, this overwhelmed, are vulnerable, and become more and more isolated.

Sadly, children and youth are increasingly winding up in hospitals because of eating disorders. Over the last thirty years, both the Canadian Institute for Health Information (CIHI) and the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) report marked increases in hospitalization for children and young people suffering from disordered eating.

As disturbing as the literature on eating disorders and young people is, not all the news is bad. Research does suggest that the earlier the intervention, the greater the chances are for recovery.

Promoting prevention and early intervention is a big part of what we do at the Looking Glass Foundation - on multiple fronts, at the outset of this disease, in an informed and caring way, by anyone close to kids at risk. So many people and organizations regularly encounter young people who may be at risk, but they simply don't know:

• Why and how they can play a key role
• How to recognize the signs
• How to avoid "triggering" situations or conversations (especially about dieting)
• How to talk to the issue, or intervene in an appropriate way
• Where to go for resources
• Where to refer sufferers and those at risk for help

Community engagement is what will stop the rampant escalation of this disease. We all need to care enough to pay heed to what kids say and do, what attitudes they express. We need to watch for the early warning signs of disordered eating - one of which is an excessive preoccupation with body image, weight loss, dieting, eating, and food. There's a very real chance that it isn't "just a phase", and they may not just "grow out of it".

There's a very real chance that they need our help.

Q&A With Trixie: A Healthy Approach to Fitness

By: Trixie Hennessey

Hi! My name is Trixie Hennessey, and I would like to extend a warm welcome to the Looking Glass Community.  I have been involved with the Looking Glass Foundation for a long time and have been involved mostly with developing the Looking Glass Residence (formerly Woodstone Residence), a residential treatment program that supports young adults with eating disorders on their path to recovery.

I’m thrilled to announce our newest blog series, Q&A with Trixie, which will provide a forum to address many of the questions I often get from our community about eating disorders. Based on the questions you submit to me at trixie@lookingglassbc.com, I’m going to address the topics that so many of us wonder about. So, please send me your requests and I’ll do my best to answer them in the coming weeks and months.

So, for our first instalment of Q&A With Trixie, here’s a question that I got asked just a few days ago...

Q: How do I manage my tendency to over-exercise when that’s what I see every day at the gym?

A: This is a question that I get asked all the time because exercise can have so many physical and mental benefits, but it can also become seriously entangled with anorexia or bulimia and result in over-exercising. Re-integration of a healthy approach to fitness can be an important part of eating disorder recovery, but I would strongly encourage each of you to take certain steps to ensure that your fitness goals support your overall recovery plan.

First, a great place to start from is psychotherapy that addresses self-esteem issues and distorted body image in relation to gym/exercise habits. While it is not a stand-alone solution, this kind of treatment will provide a safe place to talk about how to process difficult feeling and emotions when unhealthy exercise tendencies arise.

Second, pull in family and friends for support.  Exercising with a family member or trusted friend can help you remain accountable to your wellness goals while also strengthening your social support network and providing a healthy stress release.

Consider this: getting out for a walk or a bicycle ride with others can support a healthy lifestyle that is consistent with your recovery goals but a gym environment is more likely to be a solitary activity, one that too often involves rigid adherence to a strict regimen, unhealthy comparisons, and harsh self-evaluations.  I would suggest doing an honest appraisal, and if the gym evokes negative thoughts and feelings, then ask yourself if the gym is the right fit for you at this time.  If you decide to go forward, remember that boundaries, containment, and balance are key.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, remember to be gentle with yourself.  Self-compassion is the key to all aspects of your recovery journey, so foster structures that support your overarching therapeutic agenda.  Focus on yourself – judgments and comparisons are the thief of happiness.

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Trixie holds a Masters of Social Work degree from the University of British Columbia- Okanagan, where she also completed post-Masters training in Neurosequential Therapy. Trixie is the Looking Glass Foundation's Program Manager and has been a part of our team since 2011. She is also a Therapeutic Consultant at Optimal Family Wellness. She lives in Vancouver, BC and loves hiking, photography, and being mom to her two children.

Submit your questions about disordered eating, mental health and supporting those around you to trixie@lookingglassbc.com. Through Q&A With Trixie, she will provide general advice for informational purposes only. For other inquiries and services, please consult directly with a licensed professional.

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Twenty Years is Too Long

By Stacey Huget

I struggled with an eating disorder for twenty years. Literally two decades of my life were darkened by this disease and by my eventual descent into alcoholism as a way to “cope". Today, 15 year later, I am the Executive Director of the Looking Glass Foundation, and am privy to countless conversations about eating disorders, about other people’s struggle to recover.  As I listen and learn, I always return to this one thought: let it not take twenty years.

No one, no matter who they are or what their story is, should suffer this disease for years on end as I did.  And yet, that is exactly what is happening.  Thousands upon thousands suffer silently from anorexia, bulimia, binge eating, and overeating. Usually, they do so with profound shame, fear, and isolation - alone, desperate, and without hope.  Not for months, but for years.

As I see or hear of young women and men whose lives are beginning to be ravaged by this disease, I wonder: how long will this go on for?  Will their eating disorder be a brief encounter with despair, or will they struggle with it through their twenties and thirties as I did, living in the shadows along the margins of a life that might have been.

I don’t know the answer to that question, but through my life experience with disordered eating, this is what I do know:

Someone with an eating disorder must have a tremendous store of courage to come forward  - particularly in a society that is not ready for one to do so.  The misunderstandings about this disease are appalling.  All one need do is read the comments section of any online article about eating disorders to see how the world - or outspoken voices within it - still condemn, insult, diminish the sufferer.  But one needn't look to strangers.  Even today, years afterwards, if I tell a friend I recovered from an eating disorder, their first instinct is to cringe, look away, change the subject. They would rather not know.

I get an entirely different reaction, by the way, when I tell friends or colleagues I'm 11 years sober.  For that, people easily congratulate me.  Some of them readily confess concern for their own alcohol use, and tell me about wanting to cut back their own drinking. Apparently, unruly relationships with alcohol are something we are prepared to share and be empathetic about.  Not so with disordered eating.

Coming forward for treatment would be enormously less daunting with the caring intervention of another person - yet other people, even loved ones, simply don't know what to do, so they do nothing. My own experience with this disease was a lonely one.  My family and a few friends knew I had sought counsel for depression.  Amazingly though, very few people - even those who loved me - ever did more than comment on how thin I was, or admonish me to not lose any more weight.  People close to me knew something was wrong, but they didn't feel right interfering - and I didn't feel safe asking them to.  It was an ironic and painful deadlock that continued from high school and university through countless workplaces and a dozen broken relationships.

Being told there are treatment options for eating disorders is not the same thing as being successfully treated.  Several factors come into play here and, through twenty years, I bumped into all of them.

First among them is one's own readiness to respond, which waxes and wanes in ways that are too complex and elusive to be summed up or anyone's fault.  Mental illness is boggy ground and one doesn't get traction just by wanting to.

Second, is that there's a difference between the availability of a program, and the availability of a program.  The only thing gluing together my self-esteem - my ability to hold a job and earn an income - was the very thing I'd have to have given up to accommodate the requirements or the scheduling or the expense of several eating disorder programs I was told about - assuming I actually met the admissions criteria and survived the waitlist.

Third, is that there isn't a one-size-fits-all therapy for eating disorders, nor are all programs and treatments going to apply or resonate equally well for everyone.  In my case, treatment was a rough patchwork of day and group and outpatient programs; psychiatric, psychological, and nutritional counseling; and a decade-long pharmacological crapshoot.  I tried to follow the game plan and play by the rules and just make it something helpful - but I didn't feel helped. I just felt tired of trying, weary of pretending.

The shame of this disease grows with every failure to respond to treatment, with every relapse.  One doesn't develop an eating disorder feeling "right" in the world.  One feels more and more wrong as the struggle to recover continues.  I cannot count the occasions or describe the deepening resolve with which I just wrote myself off as someone who was simply not meant to cope the way other people did. I became increasingly isolated and, in my isolation, began to really drink.  It was in this boozy haze that I botched several suicide attempts  - attempts, no doubt, that I intended to fail.  I've always wanted to live.  Which was why, without realizing it at the time, I was painting my pain in new colours that someone would notice and respond to.  Fortunately, for me, they did.

Eventually, there comes a point when all of one's therapies and counseling and support, when all of one's own hard work, will come together in a kind of sweet release.  For some, it happens quickly. For others, like me, it's a matter of hanging on, of trusting in the process and in oneself. When it does come, when one feels truly free from mental illness, life is more than simply good. It can be better and richer and happier than one ever imagined.  I look back upon my darkest years and am inexpressibly grateful to everything and everyone who helped to pull me out - bit, by bit, even without my knowing they were doing it.  It was in me to get beyond my depression, my eating disorder, my alcoholism - but I couldn't have done it without help.

Recovery is something we give ourselves in the company of people who genuinely care.  Something Stephen Covey wrote in one of his books has long stayed with me: Love is a verb.  Caring for someone with an eating disorder - whether as a parent, sibling, friend, peer, colleague, or as a practitioner - is something we must do, not just say or feel.  Creating a safe place for them to risk coming forward for help.  Comforting them through their fear. Reminding them of their strength. Encouraging them through the ups and downs of treatment.  Standing by them if they stumble.  Honouring their dignity as individuals - who are worthy and cherished and so, so, so much more than their eating disorder.

More than anything else, we must do it now.  At the Looking Glass Foundation, we are.

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Stacey is The Looking Glass Foundation’s Executive Director. She lives in Vancouver, BC and is an avid jazz and opera buff, enjoys playing bridge and shooting pool, and looks forward to a day when eating disorders are something we sadly remember, as a thing of the past. You can reach Stacey at stacey@lookingglassbc.com. 

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“A Father’s Story”

By Scott Hardy

I am the proud father of three wonderful, young women between the ages of 19 and 24 years old. Raising three daughters has been both rewarding and challenging. You do your best as a parent to learn and prepare yourself to help them through the world. But what I found out a few years ago was that I was not prepared, nor equipped, to deal with the additional challenges that presented themselves when I discovered one of my daughters suffered from an eating disorder.

I believed one of the most important responsibilities I had as her father was to keep her safe and secure. Had I failed her? How could this be possible? I didn’t recognize the signs; or perhaps, I chose not to recognize the signs.

She was an extraordinary over-achiever with an outgoing personality, who appeared to everyone to be a very self-confident young woman. An accomplished pianist, ballet dancer, skier and student at the top of her class, who regularly brought home top academic honours. She had a very good group of friends, yet she often chose to spend time alone.  She began to spend much more of her time alone in her room. She read. She exercised. She researched topics of interest, extensively. She slept for long periods and often at odd times of the day.

What I did not understand at the time was that these are common characteristics of children and young adults suffering from eating disorders. So many of the behaviours I admired in her were essentially contributing to her illness.

This was just the beginning.

I understood the depression first, which led to the many visits with counselors. Once aware of her depression, it seemed other symptoms and events presented themselves quite quickly. Manic behavioural swings, obsessive compulsive behaviour like running constantly, or reading books from cover to cover before she would emerge from her room.  These occurred well in advance of any ‘body image’ or ‘food’ related concerns that I was aware of, but they quickly followed with an extremely low heart rate, severe mineral deficiencies, “brain fog,” or “Organic Brain Dysfunction,” and thoughts of suicide. Moreover, the personality that previously defined her was gone. A protective shell had replaced the goofy, fun-loving and confident young woman. Her interactions with our family and even our dog had changed.

These more dramatic symptoms demanded that I take action if I wanted to save my daughter.  I knew she was very ill but, like her, I also felt helpless.  I did not know anything about this disease. My wife and I began to research eating disorders to learn how “I could fix it.” I didn’t understand at the time that “I” could not “fix it.”  As I researched, I became increasingly distressed with the lack of available resources for those that suffer from an eating disorder, including their families and friends.  It appeared that many of the physicians, health care providers, and counselors to whom I was reaching out were less aware of the disease than I was.

My daughter was half way across the country at university when one of her roommates finally intervened and it became apparent to me that she needed to come home. I flew to Toronto and fortunately, she was prepared to acknowledge she had a problem and agreed to withdraw mid-semester from her program and come back to Vancouver.

I don’t think I have ever been so afraid.

My research was now more earnest than before. Hours upon hours were spent researching where and how to help my daughter.  I felt even more helpless, which is when my wife discovered a small website, which surprisingly, we had not yet seen. That day, the Looking Glass Residence -- at that time, called the Woodstone Residence -- came into our consciousness.

I reached out to the Looking Glass Residence and learned about this wonderful facility. I now had hope for my daughter’s future and remarkably, the help I had been so desperately seeking was so close. The staff and team at the Looking Glass Residence understood exactly what I was going through and they could help my daughter.

The period prior to her admittance seemed like an eternity. My family was anxious yet hopeful, and my daughter also went through an entire range of emotions: from excitement about her own future to fear and trepidation.

Looking Glass Residence was a haven for her. She welcomed learning about her eating disorder and the friendships came naturally in this community that had so much in common. While she was at the Looking Glass Residence I saw the return of my daughter. It was not immediate, but over this three month period with my periodic visits or phone calls, I heard “her” voice again. There was hope in her voice and a joy I hadn’t heard in well over a year.

It’s been over 1.5 years since she returned from the Looking Glass Residence. I can say that her journey has not been without setbacks yet the Looking Glass Residence equipped her with the tools she needed to manage these bumps in the road as well as a community that would support her beyond her family. Since then she’s not only graduated from University, she’s now enrolled in a graduate program that she indirectly learned about while at Looking Glass Residence.

She now has a path to her future and I have my daughter back.

Scott is a Member of The Looking Glass Foundation’s Board of Directors and a valued member of our community. He and his daughter will courageously share their story at our annual Gala in March 2015.
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Looking Glass Residence (formerly Woodstone) now in Vancouver

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Home for the Holidays

by Alison E.

As the holidays approach, I often think back to what it used to be like - how my favourite season became marred by the angst, pain, and sometimes crippling fear fomented by anorexia. If it hadn't been for the incredible patience and support of those who cared for me in treatment, I may never have recovered either my health or my Christmas spirit. To pay this miraculous gift forward, I wrote the following reflection, that it might offer even a glimmer of hope to those struggling with an eating disorder this season.

Christmas has been my favourite time of year for as long as I can remember. The smell of cloves, the twinkling lights, traditional carols telling tales of ages past—I even looked forward to watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas and It's a Wonderful Life for the hundredth time.

In my family, Christmas has always been an entire season of piano recitals, pageants, ski trips, and parties, not just a single day of presents and feasting. However, not even the magic of Christmas was immune to my obsessive disease. Once anorexia had made its nest in our home and poisoned my spirit, the holidays seemed to be cast, in its shadow of fear, angst, doubt and despair. I withdrew from the festive gatherings I once loved, recoiled from merry greetings, and ran from any occasion celebrated with food. I became completely disconnected from the part of me—the real me—that came alive during the Christmas season.

When I entered treatment for my eating disorder, it was the hope of regaining that true authentic sense of self that motivated my recovery. Needless to say, it's hard to be genuine and fully present in any situation with a brain that's completely obsessed with food, exercise, body weight and shape. I couldn't stand the cold, heart-sinking distance from things that truly mattered any longer. So when, after a few months of treatment, I was offered the chance to go home for the week of Christmas and New Year's, I felt simultaneously excited and completely terrified. A week away from the routines I'd come to rely on as safe modes of eating and coping scary. But I so desperately wanted to reconnect with the traditions I'd once loved and feel the comfort of home again, so I agreed and threw "caution" (read: fear) back in anorexia's face.

In the weeks leading up to my "vacation", I was graced by the immense patience and empathy of the counselors, nutritionists, and other practitioners surrounding me in treatment, who worked closely with me to prepare for the holidays. I opened up and spoke honestly about what scared me the most about going home for Christmas: the sheer quantity of especially rich food, the social settings in which I would be expected to eat, the tension between me and my parents who were so worried about my health and diet, and the daunting task of fitting the eating structures, coping tools, meditations, and self-awareness that I'd finally grasped in treatment into a completely unpredictable holiday setting.

Together we, along with some of the other residents in treatment for eating disorders, talked through countless scenarios and formulated many plans for "staying on the wagon" while outside in the "real world.” My dietician helped me figure out how to equate offerings at Christmas dinner to what I normally ate for an evening meal, and how to ensure there was at least one manageable dish at every gathering. My counselor guided me through my plans for the week, talking me through potential pitfalls and reminding me that what I really feared most was fear itself: that awful voice that punished me for taking any chance at happiness. Thanks to all that support, I left for Christmas feeling much more confident—and much closer to my old Yule-loving self.

Of course, eating disorders are pervasive, insidious diseases that no amount of planning can entirely subvert. All the foresight in the world could not have prevented the discomfort (and sometimes paralytic panic) I experienced while I was home for the holidays. But let's face it—I was an anorexic newly in recovery, with an eight-year career of obsessive dieting and exercise behind me - an eating disorder doesn't disappear in a day. I was bound to feel uncomfortable—I rarely felt comfortable anywhere at that point. If only it was as easy as leaving anorexia at the door, crossing the threshold of every Christmas party without my relentless punisher dogging my footsteps.

But there were some miracles that Christmas. By taking a quiet moment alone beforehand to centre myself and gather the strength I'd found in recovery, I faced every meal and came out the other side, still present in the celebrations. To my amazement, I even enjoyed some of the dishes I'd feared for so long. When I experienced anxiety or depression, I reached out to family and supportive friends for reassurance and reminders of what truly mattered. I took time to jot my thoughts, however riddled with doubt or fear, down in the form of letters to those I recognized as sources of strength. I slept when I was tired or emotionally drained, sipped lots of comforting herbal teas, drank in the crisp winter air, and cried when I needed to. Against all odds, I actually caught a glimmer of Yuletide sparkle— and hope for recovery—through a tiny crack in my anorexic shell.

This teensy glint of hope I carried with me back to treatment for eating disorders, and it grew like a carefully sewn seed as I shared about my week with the others in treatment. Sure, I was convinced that I'd gained about 300 pounds over that single week - an illusion that was quickly dispelled—but somehow, I still felt lighter than I'd felt in ages. While in treatment I'd been operating on nothing more than blind trust in what the practitioners there were teaching me, but going home for the holidays gave me the chance to see it work for real. I came back with faith in my recovery—something I believe is possible for anyone in recovery. Today, that faith is stronger than ever.