EDucate for Eating Disorder Survivors Scholarship

Tattooing my Recovery I got my first tattoo in the same spot they took my blood at the hospital. My spider rests on my skin guarding the spot where the IVs, wires, and needles would connect. Next to it lies a swooping half heart, the National Eating Disorders Association symbol. This tattoo was a long time coming. Recovering from anorexia has been a half-decade-long path so far, and while I’ve worked my way to physical and mental health, I’ll still carry my experiences with me forever. Some nights all I do is stare at the ceiling wondering if my heart rate will slow too much if I sleep. My mind wanders as I count heartbeats, and I remember the nights in the hospital beds, then those after late rides back home from treatment centers. After that, I recall the late-night study sessions as I sprinted to catch up on missed school. Long nights were a staple of my recovery process (If nothing else, my experience did give me the ability to put in crazy overtime). I climbed mountains of mental and physical work to achieve the health I have now. I'm happy for the work, although I wasn't always, because I've realized how many new opportunities recovering brings. My second tattoo is a kitten sleeping on my upper arm. Over the past few years, I’ve gotten to know my family’s two wonderful cats. When we adopted them I was a year into recovery. Every time Yuri (the younger furball) cuddles on my chest, he reminds me how much in life I would've missed if anorexia had beat me. I would never have met the cats, tried skateboarding, nor learned how to knit. I wouldn't have graduated high school, gotten into college, nor started work in a lab to start my dream career. I would never have met some of the people who became my closest friends. So all in all, it's a pretty good thing I didn't die! Instead, I'm recovering. loudly recovering too. My tattoos have been the opener for many conversations about NEDA, eating disorders, and how to help people recover. The artists warned me when I got my tattoos that people would ask, but to me, the questions are a beautiful opportunity. I hope people will ask. I hope someone suffering may recognize the symbol and reach out for support. I wish that people will be open to information, open to clearing away misconceptions the public has about eating disorders. In short, I want people to survive like I have. Misconceptions about anorexia and recovery hurt all sufferers and survivors. People dismiss me because I ate something in front of them, or because I'm not stick-thin, or because I'm a man. They'll dismiss my friend for her darker skin, or someone else I met in treatment because she doesn't purge. We all heard the dismissals and internalized them. I didn't seek treatment for years thinking I couldn't have an eating disorder. So much misinformation is out there stopping people from seeking help. One conversation about a tattoo at a time, I hope to reach more people who are still drowning in their own misconceptions. Through extatically loud openness about this stigmatized illness, we can all become more healthy. I've thrived through being open about my hard work and the rewards I reaped by surviving anorexia, and through helping others do the same.