It's no secret that I'm a mental health advocate. I'm always urging my friends to seek support and speak out about their struggles. Yet when it comes to my own issues, my brain is always prepared with a list of excuses to not get the help I desperately need. Creating this page is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but my situation has gotten dire lately and I know I need to swallow my pride and commit to recovery.

For 14 years, bulimia and I have shared a tumultuous relationship. Since moving to Seattle 2 years ago, it has reached a fever pitch, consuming every ounce of energy and every minute of free time. It has turned me into a person I don't like and has kept me from engaging in the world around me. It's stolen all the things that used to bring me joy. I'm so very tired.

In November of 2020, my therapist recommended residential treatment for my bulimia. At that point, I was binging and purging multiple times a day, spending hundreds of dollars and alienating the ones I love. With her encouragement, I contacted the Eating Recovery Center here in Seattle. After a 90-minute phone assessment, it became clear that residential treatment was right for me. I was told that it was a matter of life or death, and for once, I believed it.

Here is where my situation feels hopeless. 

Although the Eating Recovery Center is within my insurance network, I need to meet my deductible before my insurance can cover 100% of treatment. This means that I need to pay $4,648.16 out of pocket just to be admitted. Discovering this was a debilitating blow, as I've fallen on hard financial times (shocker!) and have no feasible way to pay this unless I am willing to go into substantial debt.

Back when I was hospitalized for my alcohol use in 2019, I had reached a low point wherein I truly did not think I would ever get better. I lost hope. But somehow my therapist persuaded me to get help, and now I'm 1.5 years sober. 

The reason I bring this up is because I really believe that would never have been able to get sober on my own. Being in an inpatient setting turned out to be crucial in providing me with a string of clean days and launching me into my sobriety journey.

I feel like I'm in the same situation with my bulimia. Recovering on my own has proved futile. I'm just not strong enough to get through this without a deeper level of care. And that's terrifying. But I've seen where this path leads, and it's not pretty. 

As of December 2020, I am on a waitlist to receive treatment in January. However, I recognize that this won't be an option unless I'm able to meet my monetary goal. Hence this page.

It's extremely difficult for me to ask for donations in this way. But I'm trying to empower myself to be vulnerable and open myself up to the generosity of others. With your help, I hope to end my relationship with this disease before I waste 14 more years of my life.

This is a difficult time for everyone right now, so I completely understand if you can't help me financially. All I ask is that you share this page to help me reach more people.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.