Mic Check *Ehem* Anyone Out There? Find Me On SubStack!

Hi everybody! Remember me? In the likelihood that you don’t, my name is Lindsey and I’m the long ago author behind this blog about eating disorders, recovery and treatment … which has admittedly sat defunct now for 4 years.

Womp womp.

I could go into the multitude of reasons why I departed from eating disorder blogging (my freelance PR/writing career took over, I moved into a van, I went rootless and have been traveling for years, I got tired of it, etc) but really there’s no point in mulling over the past (says someone who pretty much only enjoys mulling over the past).

Hopefully, some of you have been following along on my recovery Instagram, but for those of you who haven’t but still have any inkling of interest in reading/relating/sharing in my writing, I’m just here to announce that I have moved on over to SubStack and I’d love for you to stop on by.

Free, paid, give a donation, I don’t care how you come but I’d love if you subscribed.

My intent is to pick up a bit where I left off. Except, well, I’m not really the same as where I left off. However, I’d like to write about the now and however that looks, which as of late is a little bit of this:

In 2024, I’m a van life, cat-loving, eating disorder, travel, and relationship PR lady & writer.

  • I’ve been ‘on the road’ in a van named Jolene since 2021 with my cat.
  • When not on the road, I’ve been living in and out of South America (where my Medellin lovers at?!)
  • I now enjoy writing essays and reflections on relationships, friendship, travel, badass ladies traveling solo, grief, and.. yes… eating disorders like anorexia, bulimia, orthorexia, drunkorexia, ARFID, and more.
  • I plan to publish personal pieces on eating disorder news/research, expert source commentary (many of my clients are in mental health or outdoor fields) tips on to be a fulltime freelancer, and as always … a lot of snippets about the bittersweetness of breaking up & starting over.

I’d love to see you over on this other side of the internet. I may still publish essays and posts over here, but you’ll find them first on SubStack. It’s just a pleasant community over there and one I’m really enjoying 🙂

Thanks for all the years, y’all. I cherish each of you.

A Letter To You, Anorexia

This one’s to you, anorexia

For you continue to change my life.

The last time I saw my best friend alive, it was 9:00pm at a house party at The University of Arkansas, and I stood there, in the front yard of someone’s house, backing away from him because I wanted to finish a run.

18 years old – our first week of college – he was visiting on his way to a Mississippi school.

Linds, he pleaded, reaching out for my shoulder. Just stay. Christ, don’t run.

Continue reading “A Letter To You, Anorexia”

Sh*t Rehab Never Taught Me: Part One

In December 2013, I was gearing up to go to treatment in Florida after 8 years of living in the eating disorder cycle.

In my mind, I had this notion that rehab was gonna be this all-knowing descent into radical self realization.

More or less, I expected to come out of it being Basic B*tch Gandhi… or at the very least, Mother Teresa’s sinful pseudo-daughter. Meditating on the reg – zen-like in feeling, and – of course – still thin because in my jacked up head I thought the weight I felt was “extra” was only there because I binge ate about as much as I starved.

L-O-L.

Continue reading “Sh*t Rehab Never Taught Me: Part One”

Thanksgiving Recovery Reminder: Diet Talk

Continue reading “Thanksgiving Recovery Reminder: Diet Talk”

“If I Eat That, I’ll Have To Work Out”: Exercise With An Eating Disorder

Oh, Exercise. The ultimate double-edged sword of an eating disorder.

 

^BUT MY GOD, HOW CUTE IS THAT?

People ask me every so often “What was the hardest part of rehab?”

Depending on my mood, the answer varies.

“The food, the confinement, the emotion overload, the disparity of sick people… the exercise.”

Ah, the exercise, I always land on – or lack thereof.

3 years ago, I was escorted into rehab (yes, escorted. Two people at each side in the case that I bolted… and ran to the highway? I don’t know where the hell they expected me to go.)

Anyway, I remember looking around the vast expanse of my prison-like surroundings, and spotting what looked like a runner’s path.

Circular, brown dirted and perfectly suited to run on during what I assumed would be many hard days ahead, I was relieved to see this silver lining.

“YOU CAN TAKE MY BODY, BUT YOU CAN NEVER TAKE MY FREEDOM (TO EXERCISE)” – the William Wallace inside of me screamed. (Side note: Braveheart, oddly enough, happened to be a fan favorite to watch while in rehab. We were banned from all trash television, as well as any movie baring nudity of any sort – but yet, somehow, Braveheart slipped the radar.)

As it goes.

Continue reading ““If I Eat That, I’ll Have To Work Out”: Exercise With An Eating Disorder”

“Trump”ing Eating Disorders: Guest Post for My Blog in Light of 2017

“She looks old and wrinkled.”

“She was hotter sick”

“Someone should’ve told her she looked bad sick.”

“She’s so pretty.”

“Poor girl.”

“SHE’S AN ALCOHOLIC NOT A DRUNKOREXIC.”

“This girl be FUCKED up.”

“I’d fuck her.”

“She got an ass.”

“So tired of hearing about sorority girls with eating disorders. NEXT.”

“Someone should give that bitch a real problem to cry about.”

“I think she’s beautiful.”

“She has a nice smile.”


Oh, the internet.

A place I liken to “seeing someone else puking so you start puking and then everyone else starts puking” 2016.

Thanks for the line, John Oliver.

Continue reading ““Trump”ing Eating Disorders: Guest Post for My Blog in Light of 2017″

“Scale Wars”: Return Of The (Weight) Jedi

… Alright, so my Star War/eating disorder puns are lame (although I did get a good smirk imagining Han Solo with a scale obsession.)

Anyway, so the other day I had one of those social media Timehop moments. You know what I’m talking about, right?  It’s like you’re all well and good with the past – SAYANORA to the prom pics  – the frat parties – SEE YA MOPPY-HAIRED EX  – you’ve come to terms with the bad style choices – and then BAM.

A picture resurfaces.

Hello Linds, Timehop sings with its do-gooding dinosaur logo – DO YOU REMEMBER THAT 3 YEARS AGO YOU LOOKED LIKE THIS? Come linger nostalgically in my visual.

Timehop, you marketing bastard.

Side note – ever wonder how much easier recovery could be without the constant triggers of social media? Not that I plan on getting rid of it… but I do wonder sometimes. Continue reading ““Scale Wars”: Return Of The (Weight) Jedi”

“So, Does The Camera Make You Gain 10lbs?”: Being On Television With An Eating Disorder

CBS Studio

2 days ago, I did an interview with CBS New York talking about eating disorders, drunkorexia, and recovery.

Throughout the interview, I felt calm, I felt poised, I felt eloquent.

I win at life, I thought. Woo – I got my shit TOGETHER!

Lolz.

Flash forward 4 hours later and I see the following picture:

!!!!!#)&@#(^@(!_%$!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING, I thought immediately. NO. My ASS. My THIGHS. NOPE. NO-NO-NO-NO.

That is NOT going in the segment, I hissed at my poor friend nearby. Not to millions of people.

My panic heightened.

Continue reading ““So, Does The Camera Make You Gain 10lbs?”: Being On Television With An Eating Disorder”

Anorexia: Everyone’s Favorite Eating Disorder

A few weekends ago, I sat around a campfire talking to a boy.

Get enough to eat? He asked, peering down at the paper plate of leftovers in my lap.

So full, I moaned – tossing it to the side in that disgusted way eating disorder brains have when they want to show everyone that they “know” how full and gross they are for, ya know, eating.

((I’M SORRY I ATE SO MUCH AND AM SUBJECTING YOU TO IT, we want to scream.))

Oh, ED brain.

You sure? he asked – scoping my plate.

I nodded, catching his eye. Why you askin’?

He shook his head, but I already knew.

Ah – my blog, I guessed. Took a gander?

I’m sorry, he said. I know I promised I wouldn’t, but I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.

I shrugged. You’re not the first, but I hope it didn’t overwhelm you.

He shook his head; his mouth opening slightly, then closing.

What? I asked.

I just, he trailed off. It was hard to read.

I’m sorry, I said. But hey, 80% truths. I write 80% truths about 80% truths.

He shook his head. It wasn’t your writing.

I quieted.

He fingered the lid of a beer with his forefinger.

I just- I went through this before Linds, he paused – catching my eye again. Brought back that time I guess.

I mentally slapped my forehead. Of course, I thought.

Someone close?

Close, he repeated – breaking eye contact. Yes.

He mumbled his relation to her, and then he looked at the ground. She’s not really, he paused again. She never got better. Nothing I did ever helped, he said. I worry about that with you. If one day you’ll just fade.

You can’t fix her, I said, realizing how stupid it was as it came out.

((I HATE WHEN PEOPLE SAY THAT. Like DUH, we KNOW we can’t fix people.))

I didn’t want that, he said. I just, I wanted her to be better I guess. I thought she’d grow out of it or something. I didn’t know it could get so bad.

No one does, I suggested. Everyone thinks eating disorders are a cry for attention.

He tightened his mouth.

I opened mine; nothing came out.

Sometimes saying nothing at all, I realized, relates more.

He leaned over; grabbed my hand. We changed the subject.


Continue reading “Anorexia: Everyone’s Favorite Eating Disorder”

“No, I Don’t Want Any F-ing Ice Cream”: Camping With An Eating Disorder

This weekend was a holiday.

Here I am, 27 years old – about to start a bomb job tomorrow – the stress of my past 2 unemployed months lifted from my shoulders –

And yet this weekend I went camping – in the happiest of Ralph Walo Emerson places- and was still consumed by the inevitable eating disorder panic.

That moment that everyone in a car shouts “Let’s get ice cream!”

And you sit in the back, slinking into your Marmot jacket – trying to disappear from your reality in the back of a Colorado Suburu SUV.

Annoyed by the people asking – and then annoyed at yourself for feeling flustered in the first place.

Camping grounds!

Continue reading ““No, I Don’t Want Any F-ing Ice Cream”: Camping With An Eating Disorder”