Or, “What Lance Armstrong Has to Do With My Eating Disorder Recovery.” I was listening to NPR last weekend and they were, of course, talking about the Lance Armstrong interviews with Oprah, in which he admits to doping during the time which he won his seven Tour de France titles. (I wish I could find the link to this report, but after many hours of searching the NPR archives I couldn’t find it.) At one point during the segment, they quoted a psychologist whose point, in short, was that Lance Armstrong probably thought he was doing the best thing by lying about doping.

If you've ever attempted recovery from your eating disorder-- especially if you've been in a eating disorder treatment center -- you've likely heard this refrain at least once: Secrets keep you sick. It's true. Secrets keep us sick. Eating disorders thrive on secrets. How else could you get by for so long with binging and purging, with eating less than X calories a day, with exercising for hours on end, with spending hundreds of dollars a month on binges? It's not likely that you're broadcasting these things (I certainly didn't) or someone would hold you accountable.

I caught myself thinking the other day, "I wish I JUST had an eating disorder" or "I wish I JUST had bipolar." Meaning, of course, that I wish I only had to deal with one of my many mental health diagnoses as opposed to dealing with them all at once.

Recovering from an eating disorder isn’t particularly easy at any time of the year, but I always find it especially difficult around the New Year. For starters, you’ve just gotten through the holidays, which are extremely stressful in and of themselves, even if you don’t have an eating disorder. And then come New Year’s resolutions. If your eating disorder is anything like mine, it rejoices at the idea of flying under the radar and hitching a ride on everyone else’s “Get fit in 2013!” wagon.

If you're in recovery from an eating disorder, you can join me now in a collective sigh of relief.  We survived the holidays.

Two years ago, I spoke with HealthyPlace's, Gary Koplin, on "De-Romanticizing Anorexia." I was asked to write Surviving ED, an eating disorders recovery blog, after that video post. I vowed to be completely honest when I started writing this blog. In some ways, it has been both a painful and rewarding two years.

Recovery from an eating disorder offers many gifts. Health. Restored relationships with family and friends. New life. Freedom. And it's true. Eating disorder recovery does mean all of these things, and more. But that's not the gift I'm talking about. This gift is much more subtle and may seem to be a curse at first.

The truth is, I often hate the physical aspects of recovery. The night sweats. The hunger pains. The food cravings. The breakouts of acne. The edema. The delayed gastric re-emptying. The headaches. The constipation and diarrhea. And my ever-changing body, including, The "Buddha"  Belly. It has been enough to cause me to give up. Several times.

For almost five years, I have struggled and fought to free myself from anorexia. It has been painful, and full of tears. It hasn't been easy. Understatement of the year. This is what has happened: A panicked flight from Rogers Memorial Hospital's eating disorders program. Eight hospitalizations on the psychiatric unit of an area hospital. Spectacular failure during a six-week stay at the River Centre Clinic. Plunging into alcohol and drug abuse. Multiple relapses. Now I can finally see the other side.

In a fit of anger, I threw away my scale in January. The temptation to buy a new one was very strong, but I knew I needed to move beyond obsessing about numbers in order to achieve true recovery. Therefore, I haven't known my weight in almost eight months. Until today. And surprisingly, I'm okay with it.