Semi Secret Sophie🌙✨

04/05/2026

A few days ago, I came home from eating disorder treatment, and I still have a lot to unpack.

Going to treatment was probably the best and worst thing I have ever done in my life. It was overwhelming, exhausting, uncomfortable, and at times deeply painful. It also very likely saved my life.

I am trying to let myself hold both of those truths at the same time.

I should be proud of myself for asking for help when I needed it. I should be proud of myself for making it through something so difficult. And even though I am still processing a lot of what happened there, I know this was the beginning of something important.

My days started at 6:30 every morning with a knock on the door, a new face greeting me, and the start of vitals and daily weight checks. I am not much of a morning person, but with my ridiculously stubborn insomnia, early wake-ups almost felt beside the point. Most nights, I was already awake, staring at the clock, just waiting to be told it was time to get up.

Overnight, safety checks happened about every 45 minutes. Someone would open the door to make sure I was okay and still breathing. Usually they just peeked in and left, but I woke up almost every time. I came home exhausted, and honestly, I still am.

After that came meds, fresh air, and breakfast. Everything was on a schedule. In some ways, I loved that. In other ways, I hated it. There was comfort in the structure, but there was also no escaping it. Every part of the day belonged to the program.

Eating six times a day was one of the wildest adjustments for me in the beginning. Some days, I sat at the table and cried. I tried my best to keep it together in community settings, but it was hard. Really hard.

For much of my stay, the menus my dietitian and I had worked on together kept getting lost and ending up in the trash pile, which was incredibly frustrating. On top of that, if we were unable to finish everything on our plate, we had to supplement with a more concentrated version of Ensure. Even when I was frustrated, I was still trying. I was trying to comply, trying to trust the process, and trying to follow my dietitian’s recommendations because I truly wanted to get better.

And I was motivated. I knew I only had a few weeks there, and I wanted to make them count.

Treatment was packed. We had group therapy, individual therapy, meetings with dietitians, psychiatrists, and medical providers. There was always something happening.

If I am being honest, I did not get much from most of the group therapy content itself. A lot of it focused on DBT coping skills and techniques I already know very well. I have been in therapy for most of my life, so I am more than familiar with things like STOPP, box breathing, self-soothing, and the rest.

But what I did get from group was something I did not expect to matter so much: community.

I was not alone. I was not the only person struggling with anorexia and ARFID. In the middle of all that chaos, I found people who understood. That mattered more than I can really explain.

My individual treatment team, though, felt like an absolute gift.

My therapist was this bubbly woman close to my age who had also been diagnosed with ADHD later in life, and we clicked almost immediately over one of those silly little brain connections that just make sense when you meet the right person. I felt understood by her, and I am so grateful for the conversations we had.

My dietitian was also incredible. She never made me feel guilty or ashamed. She made me laugh when I felt like crying, and she helped me build a real foundation for recovery. She taught me about nutrition in a way that actually stuck with me, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like I had a plan.

There is a whole list of things I could yell about, and there are parts of this experience I am choosing to keep private for now. I do plan to reach out to the patient advocate later this week, because I have feedback that I think could make a real difference for future patients.

Even with all of that, I am thankful I had the opportunity to go.

I am thankful I got treatment for my eating disorder. I am thankful I made it through. I am thankful I am still here.

This is only the beginning of my recovery story. I am just getting started, and I know there is still a lot of work ahead. But I am home now, and I am back with my regular outpatient team, meeting with them weekly and continuing the work from here.

Little by little, I am building something better.

I also want to take a moment to thank the people who carried me through this.

Brandon, thank you for being brave and steady while I was away. You kept everything going at home while balancing work, and you showed up for me again and again. There were even multiple times you drove to the center to bring me medication because insurance made it impossible to fill it there. You were my rock, and you gave me one more reason to keep fighting for recovery.

Cole, thank you for all of the love and support. Thank you for bringing Spencer and Anna to visit me. Being able to smile and laugh during all of this meant more than I can put into words.

Brock, thank you for physically getting me to treatment. Thank you for holding my hand while I cried through intake. Thank you for showing up for me in a way that only you could.

Recovery is not pretty. It is not graceful. It is not a tidy little before-and-after story.

But I am here. I am trying. And for now, that is enough.

If you need eating disorder support

If you are struggling with food, weight, restriction, bingeing, purging, ARFID, or the exhausting thoughts that can come with an eating disorder, please know that help exists.

The National Eating Disorders Association offers a free confidential screening tool, treatment-finding resources, support information, and education for people at many different stages of recovery.

ANAD also offers free eating disorder support groups, and NEDA links directly to those options on its support groups page.

For people in North Texas, one higher-level treatment option is Eating Recovery Center Dallas/Plano, including the Baylor campus in Plano. ERC says its Texas programs serve eating disorders including anorexia nervosa and ARFID, and it also offers virtual care statewide in Texas.

If you are in immediate emotional distress or feel unsafe, call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. It is free, available 24/7, and also offers chat support.

If texting feels easier, Crisis Text Line is available 24/7 by texting HOME to 741741 in the U.S.

xx,

Soph