Help Me Recover My Life as I Navigate Disability

Hi, my name is Logann and I am an actor, writer, mentor, teaching artist, childcare provider, and activist.

It is very hard to share this or even ask for help because I have a lot of shame around what I’m about to share.

I am currently struggling with Anorexia Nervosa and ARFID as well as being Crohn’s Disease (which is a recent diagnosis after almost 15th of suffering) and pelvic floor dysfunction due to abdominal adhesions. In the last year I have been advised to go to inpatient and or residential treatment for Anorexia but due to lack of resources and past trauma it’s not an option. Right now I am literally in a fight for my life and facing financial hardship due to a long-standing battle with an eating disorder and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Recovery over the years has been made complicated by lack of accurate information around eating disorders, harmful and traumatizing inpatient treatment, lack of access to affordable treatment, food insecurity, inability to take off time from work to focus solely on healing without losing my home, and in more recent years digestive issues due to surgical trauma.

I grew up during a time when television, movies, billboards, magazines, and runways made it very clear that thin was in, skinny was best, and diet culture left no room for the celebration of bodies of all shapes and sizes. Homosexual and bisexual celebrities where whispered about as though their existence was shameful. Transgender folks remained, hidden and the word nonbinary hadn’t been spoken into existence yet. Eating disorders were portrayed and advertised as something only white women struggled with, and there was a very specific stereotype attached to how they appeared.

My eating disorder started at age 14, but by age 8 I had already developed body dysmorphia. As the older sibling of a sister who was a picky eater and quite skinny; friends and family felt the need to comment on what my sister ate and her tiny body. I assumed that if nobody was calling me skinny then I had to be fat, and the messaging everywhere was that fat was bad.

I had been called fat by friends and one family member who was a life long dieter and constant commentator on everyone’s bodies and food, told me at age 11 she saw how I ate and I better be careful because she could see me gaining weight. The sad fact is, that I was never fat, and the even sadder truth is that there was no messaging out there to tell me even if I was fat, it would have been nothing to be ashamed of, or feel like I had to fix.

I was a happy kid who was active, artistic, quirky, athletic, and a dancer. It bothered me that I obsessed about my body a lot, however I was too busy being a kid and enjoying life to care. By age 14 the happy active kid was no longer cool, and experienced a loss of friends for no good reason other than the fact that teenage years can be harsh and unforgiving. Not knowing at the time that I was neurodivergent and had ADHD I dove headfirst into schoolwork because I was told by a teacher I was capable of getting straight A’s. Grades never mattered to me in the past, but with my sense of self worth rapidly sinking I became an honors student, who was convinced they were stupid, because they had to work ten times harder than their peers. Schoolwork was overwhelming, and I began to fixate even more on my body and weight. Gradually my meals got smaller, as did my body. I felt powerful and confident when kids who hadn’t noticed me in years began to comment. I had no idea that this great new lifestyle was a full blown eating disorder that would take over my life.

My dance teachers knew exactly what it was, and called it to my parents’ attention. They immediately got me into therapy and very regular doctors appointments. However, I was in pretty deep, and very unwilling and quite terrified to let go of this way of living that made me feel safe.

I spent most of high school in and out of treatment centers, forced tube fed, and was shamed by family, and professionals for not recovering. These centers sold us a fairytale happily ever after ending and never properly prepared myself or my parents for the harsh reality, that many people never recover and others often relapse over and over again. Eating disorders are a mental illness that always affect the mind and only a certain percentage of time affect one’s physical health and appearance. I truly had no idea what my eating disorder was really about. I also didn’t know that everyone else’s fixation and focus on my tiny body in the early years of my ED, would be a very big obstacle in my recovery as an adult.

I deferred my admission to college but then rather than spending the year off working on recovery I worked three jobs and babysat. Once I arrived at college nearly got kicked out my first year for being a liability. My eating disorder morphed as they often do and I was still as sick as could be in my head but looked “healthy” and so not only did I graduate college, but I fooled myself and those around me into believing I was better.

The normalizing of diet culture in this country made it so easy for me to think I was just being “healthy.” I didn’t know any better, that I was just cycling in and out of different versions of my eating disorder and many of my therapists and dietitians were providing inadequate and often harmful care, that burnt a whole in my pocket and had me working myself into burn out time and time again with little time to focus on healing. Most years I lacked resources for food, and had to put work before therapy and treatment. In 2006 I felt that I had truly hit bottom and was ready to give 100% to myself and healing from the eating disorder. I took medical leave from work and checked myself into treatment. I spent almost three months working on my mental health and for the first time in my life felt like I could truly recover and I deserved better. Little did I know that I was about the face the biggest trauma of my life which turned my life upside down.

Only one month out of treatment I found out that I had an ovarian cyst on my left ovary the size of a grapefruit that needed to be removed as soon as possible. The cyst was successfully removed and biopsied. Two days later I was home recovering but didn’t feel right. I was told likely I was backed up and to lay off the pain meds. By that weekend I spiked a fever and was rushed to the ER. There I learned I was septic and my bowel had been nicked in surgery and all this time had been leaking. After waking from emergency surgery hooked up to all kinds of tubes as a wound vacuum I learned that a foot of my colon and part of my left abdominal wall had been removed. I was not allowed to eat for two weeks. TWO weeks and I was in early recovery from an ED. The doctors still didn’t know if i’d survive and were trying to get the right antibiotics to fight the flesh eating bacteria. I was traumatized but didn’t even know it at the time. Eventually over two weeks later I went home to recover and spend four months with a portable wound vacuum. All of my savings was gone from not being able to work and not realizing I had C-PTSD I relapsed quickly back into the eating disorder. The years that followed were stressful. I had a scar revision surgery, filed malpractice lawsuit and had to settle , and developed worsening digestive issues that doctors constantly dismissed due to the surgeries I had been through. I was told I have abdominal adhesions and I’d have to “just live with it.” Nobody prepared me for what would happened to me physically as time went on nor did they tell me that there were preventative measures I could have taken and even things I could have done. It’s been very hard to make peace with my body when it’s been through so much trauma and it’s been hard to make peace with food when it has often caused me so much physical pain in distress.

I have gotten very good at masking my eating disorder, masking physical and emotional pain and pretending I’m fine. But the truth is I am

not ok and have not been for years. And since 2021 I’ve been on s steady decline. In the last year it’s been hard for me to eat. yes some of it is due to having body dysmorphia but most of it is directly related to trauma and C-PTSD and fear around the pain food often causes, because my digestion has been compromised by all of the surgeries. Most days I struggle to eat, have no interest in food and get stressed out about making choices around eating and cooking. My medical bills are piling, my rent keeps going up, and I’m scraping by and finding myself often wanting to give up trying to heal and go back to work full time so I don’t have to rely on anyone but myself. But I want a better life. I am currently appealing a denial of disability and looking for housing support. It’s exhausting to live with an eating disorder and invisible disabilities. But I can finally let go of some of the shame and blame and I’m asking you all for help.

Currently I have found, affirming, trauma informed eating disorder care, that is far more financially accessible than it was when I first entered adulthood. None of it is covered by my insurance. I owe much thanks to the nonprofits who have provided it to me at low to no cost; are trying to make sure everyone who needs help for eating disorders can access care, no matter their, gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, or financial status.

I have slowly begun the healing process. It’s painful and exhausting to still be fighting this illness knowing that my story could have been different had I not dealt with food insecurity, or was given information about how to apply for disability so I could truly have permission to take time to heal. It’s infuriating to know that the doctor who made a near fatal error lived comfortably while my medical bills continued to pile up in order to manage the physical results of the harm that’s been caused. I just want time to work on beating my eating disorder and giving my body a break from the stress it’s been under for so long.

When I was working full time in 2021 I gave as much and as often as I could to those who needed and I know one day I will be able to again. But now I’m taking a moment to ask for your support to help me through this rough time.

Thank you