2024: A Year of Struggles and Resilience in My Recovery Journey

As I sit down to reflect on this past year, I find myself overwhelmed by the sheer weight of 2024. It’s been a year that has tested me in ways I never imagined, a year marked by battles that often felt insurmountable. Balancing my eating disorder recovery with the demands of managing type 1 diabetes has always been a delicate dance, but this year brought challenges that shook my footing time and time again.

The Unforgiving Intersection of Recovery and Diabetes

Living with type 1 diabetes means that every bite I take is meticulously calculated—carbs, insulin ratios, and blood sugar trends dictate what, when, and how I eat. For someone in eating disorder recovery, where the goal is often to relinquish control and find peace with food, this constant monitoring can feel suffocating. Recovery encourages intuition and self-trust, yet diabetes demands precision and discipline. Reconciling these conflicting needs has always been hard, but this year it felt impossible.

In 2024, I found myself caught in a relentless cycle of guilt and frustration. There were days when I’d celebrate a recovery milestone—eating a meal without counting calories—only to be blindsided by a blood sugar spike that left me questioning everything. Other days, the fear of a hypo (low blood sugar) drove me to eat when I wasn’t ready, triggering feelings of shame and loss of control. Each decision felt like a potential minefield, and the emotional toll was immense.

At one point, my recovery took an unexpected turn when I had to be NG tube fed. This intervention, meant to stabilise my body and ensure I received adequate nutrition, brought its own set of emotional challenges. It was a stark reminder of the physical toll my eating disorder had taken and the seriousness of my condition. Managing my diabetes during this time felt like an afterthought—my blood sugar levels often swung wildly as my body adjusted to the feeding regimen. While the tube feeding was essential, it amplified my feelings of vulnerability and the ever-present conflict between recovery and chronic illness management.

The Isolation of Invisible Battles

This year, the loneliness of navigating these intertwined struggles felt more acute than ever. Despite the increasing awareness around mental health and chronic illness, the unique challenges of living at this intersection often felt misunderstood. “Just follow your meal plan,” or “You need to take care of your diabetes first,” were well-meaning pieces of advice that ignored the complexity of my reality. The truth is, prioritising one often feels like sacrificing the other.

And so, I withdrew. I turned down invitations that involved food, fearing the judgment of others or the chaos of unpredictable blood sugar levels. I avoided conversations about my health, too tired to explain why balancing these two conditions sometimes felt like an impossible task. The result was an aching loneliness, a sense of being untethered from those around me.

The Emotional Rollercoaster

What made 2024 particularly difficult was the emotional turbulence that accompanied these challenges. Diabetes management is already a full-time job, one where perfection is unattainable, yet the stakes are life-threatening. Adding recovery to the mix meant living with a near-constant hum of anxiety. Would today’s choices set me back in my recovery? Would they jeopardise my long-term health? The weight of these questions was exhausting.

There was also the deeply emotional experience of being admitted to an eating disorder unit. This wasn’t a decision made lightly, and it came with a mixture of relief and dread. Relief that I would finally be in an environment designed to support my recovery, and dread at confronting the reality of how much help I needed. During this time, I had to move off my hybrid closed-loop insulin pump and transition back to multiple daily injections, which caused my blood sugars to spiral out of control. The lack of precise insulin management that my pump had provided me made it nearly impossible to maintain stable blood sugar levels, adding another layer of stress and physical discomfort to an already challenging situation. The structured meals and therapies highlighted how difficult it was for the nursing staff to control my diabetes, and dread at confronting the reality of how much help I needed. The structured meals and therapies highlighted how difficult it was for the nursing staff to control my diabetes, yet they also brought challenges in navigating my diabetes care within the confines of the program. It was a humbling chapter, one that underscored the seriousness of my struggles but also reinforced the importance of fighting for my health.

And yet, within the storm, there were glimmers of resilience. Moments where I chose recovery, even when it felt like a betrayal of my diabetes management. Moments where I prioritised my diabetes care, reminding myself that compassion and patience are integral to recovery, too. These small victories felt monumental, even as the larger battle raged on.

Lessons in Grace and Growth

If 2024 has taught me anything, it’s the importance of grace—for myself and for this journey that is anything but linear. Recovery and diabetes management are both marathons, not sprints. They require endurance, adaptability, and a deep well of self-compassion. This year has reminded me that setbacks don’t negate progress and that survival itself is a testament to my strength.

I’ve also learned the value of seeking connection. Though it’s been tempting to isolate, opening up to trusted friends, therapists, and online communities has been a lifeline. There is power in vulnerability, in sharing the messy, unfiltered truth of my experiences. It’s through these connections that I’ve found validation, support, and the courage to keep going.

Looking Ahead

As I prepare to leave 2024 behind, I do so with a mixture of relief and hope. Relief that this difficult year is coming to a close, and hope that the lessons I’ve learned will carry me forward. Recovery and diabetes management will continue to challenge me, but they will also continue to teach me about the beauty of embracing imperfection.

To anyone else navigating the complexities of eating disorder recovery or chronic illness—or both—I see you. Your struggles are valid, your efforts are enough, and your journey is worth it. Here’s to a new year of growth, healing, and the unwavering belief that we are more than our challenges.

The Festive Season: Navigating the Crossroads of Eating Disorders and Type 1 Diabetes

The festive season is a time filled with warmth, laughter, and the promise of togetherness. But for those of us managing an eating disorder and Type 1 diabetes, it can also be one of the most challenging times of the year. The holidays bring a heightened focus on food, social gatherings, and family, turning what should be a season of joy into a minefield of triggers, stress, and self-doubt.

As someone who walks this tightrope, I know the holidays often feel like a storm you have to weather. But amidst the chaos, there is also space for resilience, self-compassion, and small moments of peace.

For most people, festive meals are a source of comfort, a chance to indulge and enjoy. But for me, food isn’t just food—it’s a battlefield. Every bite can carry the weight of scrutiny, guilt, and fear, tangled with the need to count carbs, monitor blood sugar, and take my insulin.

With Type 1 diabetes, I’m constantly calculating: How many carbs are in this? What’s my blood sugar now? How will this meal affect me later? But the eating disorder adds a cruel voice to the mix: You’ve eaten too much. You’re not doing enough to control yourself. The noise can be deafening. And in the midst of it all, there’s the pressure to appear “normal.” To smile as though this elaborate meal isn’t causing your mind to spiral. To laugh with family, even as you quietly worry about how your blood sugar will react to dessert—or whether you’ll even let yourself have dessert at all.

For many of us, family gatherings are as emotionally complex as they are joyful. Comments about food, weight, or appearance—sometimes well-meaning, sometimes not—can strike at the most vulnerable parts of us.

• “Are you sure you should eat that?”
• It’s just one meal—don’t overthink it!”
• “You don’t look like you have diabetes.”

These words, however unintentional, can cut deep. They echo in my mind long after the plates are cleared, feeding both the eating disorder and the relentless guilt that comes with managing a chronic illness.

And then there’s the isolation—the sense that no one truly understands the exhausting balancing act of managing diabetes and an eating disorder at the same time. It can feel like you’re walking alone through a crowd, smiling on the outside while inwardly screaming for relief.

There’s a unique pain in having two conditions that seem to contradict each other. Diabetes demands control, discipline, and structure. The eating disorder thrives on chaos, rigidity, and self-punishment.

Managing blood sugar requires me to eat when my body needs fuel, even if my eating disorder is screaming at me to skip the meal. Treating a low blood sugar might mean consuming sugar quickly, without overthinking—but that goes against the eating disorder’s relentless rules.

During the festive season, this internal battle intensifies. The abundance of food, the unpredictable eating schedules, the carb-heavy meals—they all collide with the perfectionism that both my conditions demand. It’s exhausting, and sometimes it feels impossible to win.

But here’s what I’m learning: The festive season doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to look like it does in the movies, or on social media, or even in the expectations of those around me.

For me, success during the holidays isn’t about maintaining perfect blood sugar levels or adhering to rigid recovery goals. It’s about surviving the season with my health—both physical and mental—intact.

Some days, that means choosing to eat, even when it’s hard. Other days, it means letting myself rest, stepping away from the table when the pressure becomes too much, or reaching out to someone who understands.

It means celebrating the small victories: checking my blood sugar, choosing kindness over criticism, or simply making it through a meal without letting guilt consume me.

Self-compassion is the greatest gift I’ve learned to give myself during the festive season. It’s not easy—it feels unnatural, even selfish, at times. But it’s essential.

When my blood sugar isn’t perfect, I remind myself that diabetes is unpredictable, not a reflection of my failure.

When the eating disorder’s voice grows louder, I try to counter it with a softer one: You are more than your struggles. You deserve nourishment and joy, just like everyone else.

And when the holidays feel overwhelming, I allow myself to take a step back, to protect my peace, to breathe.

If you’re reading this and nodding along, please know this: You are not alone. Managing an eating disorder and Type 1 diabetes is a heavy burden, but it’s one that many of us carry together.

Lean on your support system—whether it’s a therapist, your diabetes team, a close friend, or the online community. You don’t have to face this alone.

And most importantly, be gentle with yourself. The holidays aren’t about perfection; they’re about connection, resilience, and finding moments of light in the darkness.

This festive season, my wish for all of us is not just survival, but a sense of hope. Even if the road is hard, even if the path feels uncertain, you are moving forward. You are doing enough. And you are enough, just as you are.

To anyone navigating this journey, I see you. I believe in you. And I’m walking alongside you every step of the way.

How Time in Tight Range (TITR) helped contribute to my Eating Disorder and how I am challenging it.

"Time in Tight Range" (TITR) refers to maintaining blood glucose levels within a very narrow target range, usually more stringent than the standard recommendations for people with Type 1 diabetes. While keeping blood glucose within a specific range can be essential for diabetes management, striving for TITR can contribute to or exacerbate an eating disorder (ED) for several reasons:

1. Obsessive Focus on Control

• Perfectionism and Rigidity: TITR demands constant monitoring of blood glucose levels, insulin dosing, and food intake to stay within a tight glucose range. This level of precision can foster a perfectionistic mindset, which is also common in individuals with eating disorders. In the context of an ED, the desire to achieve perfect blood glucose control may translate into obsessive behaviours around food, insulin, and exercise, similar to how someone with an ED may obsess over calories, weight, or appearance.

2. Fear of Losing Control

• Fear of Hyper- and Hypoglycemia: Maintaining TITR can increase anxiety around eating or taking insulin. If you deviate from this tight range, you might experience hyperglycaemia (high blood sugar) or hypoglycaemia (low blood sugar), both of which come with unpleasant symptoms and potential long-term complications. The fear of high blood sugar may lead to restrictive eating behaviours to avoid glucose spikes, while the fear of low blood sugar might discourage proper insulin use or lead to binge eating to counteract lows.

3. Restrictive Eating Patterns

• Avoidance of Certain Foods: To stay within the tight range, people might avoid eating foods they perceive as “risky,” like carbohydrates or sugary snacks, to prevent blood sugar spikes. Over time, this can evolve into restrictive eating patterns, which are a hallmark of many eating disorders. For instance, carbohydrate restriction may initially be framed as a way to manage blood sugar, but it can quickly blur into disordered eating, especially if paired with a fear of weight gain.

4. Skipping or Reducing Insulin Doses

• Insulin Omission Risk: In some cases, people may engage in behaviours like reducing or skipping insulin doses to keep their blood sugar from dropping too low. This can be a dangerous form of insulin manipulation, often associated with diabulimia, where insulin is intentionally misused to control weight. Focusing on keeping blood glucose within a tight range may fuel the temptation to skip insulin to avoid low blood sugars or the perception of weight gain that can come with appropriate insulin use.

5. Reinforcement of Disordered Behaviors

• Positive Feedback Loop: When you successfully stay within the TITR, it can feel like a significant accomplishment, reinforcing strict or unhealthy behaviors related to food and insulin management. This can create a cycle where staying in the tight range becomes a measure of self-worth or success, much like weight or body shape might be for someone with an ED. Over time, this need for control over both diabetes management and eating can lead to extreme rigidity in eating habits, further embedding the eating disorder behaviours.

6. Emotional Toll and Anxiety

• Emotional Burden of Constant Monitoring: Constantly worrying about staying in a narrow glucose range can cause significant stress and anxiety. For someone prone to an eating disorder, this additional stress may exacerbate disordered eating behaviours as a way to cope with the overwhelming burden of diabetes management. The mental strain of trying to maintain perfect blood sugars, on top of managing an ED, can lead to burnout, further increasing the likelihood of engaging in harmful behaviours to regain a sense of control.

7. Body Image Concerns

• Weight and Body Image Distortion: Many people with Type 1 diabetes who strive for TITR are also concerned about the effects of insulin on their weight. Insulin is necessary to manage blood sugar, but its use can lead to weight gain, a trigger for those with eating disorders. Worrying about the impact of insulin on weight can drive restrictive eating, insulin restriction, or over-exercising, all of which can significantly contribute to an ED.

8. Social Isolation

• Avoidance of Social Situations: Maintaining TITR often requires careful planning and control over meals, which can make social eating situations stressful or undesirable. Avoiding social settings where food is involved can isolate you, which may worsen the eating disorder by reinforcing secrecy around food and feeding negative thoughts. Social withdrawal to maintain control over diabetes and food intake can intensify the eating disorder mindset, deepening the feeling of isolation and entrenching unhealthy habits.

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Breaking the Cycle

To address how TITR may have contributed to your eating disorder, it’s crucial to balance the desire for tight blood glucose control with a more flexible, compassionate approach to both diabetes and food management. Some key strategies include:

1. Working with a Multidisciplinary Team: A team of professionals, including an endocrinologist, dietitian, and therapist, can help you find a middle ground. This team can teach you how to manage your diabetes without letting the pursuit of perfect control dominate your life or fuel disordered eating behaviours.

2. Focusing on Overall Health, Not Perfection: Shifting the focus from perfect control (TITR) to overall health and well-being, both physically and mentally, can reduce the pressure to stay within an ideal range at all times. This includes recognising that fluctuations in blood glucose are normal and do not define your success or self-worth.

3. Challenging Perfectionism and Rigidity: Therapy, especially Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), can help address the perfectionism and black-and-white thinking that often underlies both diabetes management struggles and eating disorders. Learning to tolerate imperfection in blood glucose levels and being flexible around food choices is a vital part of recovery.

4. Self-Compassion and Mindfulness: Practicing self-compassion when you don't meet your TITR goals can help break the cycle of self-blame and anxiety. Mindfulness techniques can also help you become more aware of how your thoughts around blood sugar and food are connected, allowing you to address them in healthier ways.

By recognising how striving for TITR contributed to your eating disorder, you can begin to reframe how you approach both diabetes management and your relationship with food, working towards a healthier and more sustainable balance.

The Long Road to Eating Disorder Recovery: A Journey of Courage and Hope

Recovery from an eating disorder is not a linear path. It’s a winding road filled with ups and downs, moments of triumph, and periods of setback. It’s a journey that demands immense courage, relentless perseverance, and, above all, hope. For those who have walked this difficult path, each step forward, no matter how small, is a testament to our internal strength.

Living with an eating disorder is like being trapped in a prison of your own making. The relentless thoughts about food, weight, and body image consume every waking moment. It’s a life ruled by numbers—calories, pounds, and clothing sizes. These obsessions can overshadow everything else, leaving little room for joy or connection.

I have days where my disorder controls me completely. I wake up with a sense of dread, my mind immediately flooded with thoughts of what i will eat, what I wont eat, and how I make up for any perceived transgressions. The mirror is my enemy, reflecting a distorted image that never matches the reality what is in my head. The scale are my judge, jury, and executioner, determining my worth based on the number it displayed.

The decision to seek recovery often comes from hitting rock bottom. For me, it was sort of forced on me when the realisation hit that my eating disorder was not only destroying my body after a number of hospital admissions, but also stealing my life. I was tired—tired of the lies, the secrecy, and the constant battle in my mind. I knew I needed help, but admitting it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

Reaching out for support is both terrifying and liberating. It means acknowledging that I have a problem and that I couldn’t fix it on my own. Something that i find extremely hard to admit as i am such a fiercely independent being not wanting to rely on others to 'Fix Me'. It has meant trusting others with my deepest fears and vulnerabilities. But it is also the first step toward reclaiming my life from the clutches of the disorder.

Recovery is a gradual and often arduous process. It involves unlearning harmful behaviours and beliefs while building new, healthier habits and mindsets. It’s about learning to nourish your body, not punish it. It’s about finding new ways to cope with emotions without turning to food or restriction.

Therapy plays a crucial role in my recovery. It provides a safe space to explore the underlying issues that have fuelled my eating disorder. I am learning to challenge the negative thoughts and beliefs that have taken root in my mind. I began to see food as fuel, not the enemy, and my body as something to be cared for, not controlled.

Having a support system is essential. My family and friends have become my pillars of strength, offering love and encouragement when I have needed it the most. They reminded me of my worth beyond my appearance and celebrated my progress, no matter how small. The eating disorder and Type one diabetes communities, both online and offline, also provided invaluable support. Sharing my story and hearing others’ experiences make me feel less alone and more understood. It makes me realise i am not going crazy. 

Recovery is not without its struggles and setbacks. There are days when the urge to return to old habits are overwhelming. Moments of stress or emotional turmoil often triggered a relapse. But each setback has taught me something valuable about myself and my journey. They reminded me that recovery is not about perfection but about progress. It’s about getting up after a fall and continuing to move forward.

As I am progressing in my recovery, I am rediscovering the parts of life that my eating disorder had stolen from me one step at a time. I find joy in activities that have nothing to do with food or weight. I started to appreciate my body for what it could do, not just how it looked. Relationships that had been strained by my disorder began to heal, and I was able to connect with others more deeply and authentically.

To anyone struggling with an eating disorder, know that recovery is possible. It’s not easy, and it requires immense bravery, but it is worth every effort. You are more than your disorder. You are deserving of love, health, and happiness.

Recovery is a journey, not a destination. It’s about learning to live in harmony with your body and mind. It’s about embracing the imperfections and celebrating the victories. It’s about finding peace and reclaiming your life.

If you’re on this journey, keep going. Reach out for support, be patient with yourself, and never lose sight of the hope that recovery brings. Each step forward is a testament to your strength, and every day is a new opportunity to move closer to the life you deserve.