Navigating the vagaries of eating disorder recovery

Navigating the vagaries of eating disorder recovery

Living with an eating disorder is hard, and recovery is everything but linear. Summer has been bravely battling anorexia nervosa since the fall of 2023. After much progress during the summer of 2024, Summer’s return to school dragged us back into the grim reality of dealing with an eating disorder on a regular day-to-day basis.
For us, managing the eating disorder generally is easier over the holidays when there are fewer, or at least different, schedules to follow; also, the impact of the social anxiety many children experience into and through their teen years shouldn’t be underestimated.
Summer has experienced a setback each time she returns to school after a break. Schoolchildren can be awful; many show little to no empathy and do not understand the consequences of their actions.
We tried hard to maintain our course for months, and Summer did her best and more, using all the strength she could muster; however, her weight wouldn’t go up. Our therapists thought the best course of action would be to admit her to a residential program, not only because of her weight but because they felt the social setting at school wasn’t doing her much good.

Low weight meant another hospital admission

At the same time, the therapists said, Summer would find a different social context at the residential treatment centre. I was hesitant initially, as was Summer. But when we finally agreed – three months into school by now – her Body Mass Index (BMI) was too low for admission.
Even though it might not be the most accurate means of measurement in situations like this, a certain BMI was essential for admission. A lower BMI meant no admission. I was surprised because I suspect many people suffering from anorexia nervosa have very low BMIs. Still, low BMIs are linked to other health issues, which the residential centre’s insurance doesn’t cover.
This meant another hospital admission right before the end of the year. Summer was admitted at the end of November, and we stayed almost a month. We were not in a hospital with special ED facilities this time but a regular hospital with little or no ED experience. This had its ups and downsides, like everything. Summer had her own bed, but I had to sleep in an armchair. We shared a bathroom with other people and probably had seven different roommates over these three and a half weeks; some of our roommates were terrible, and some became friends.

Home for Christmas–benefits for all

On the one hand, this hospital admission was extremely stressful, as Summer never had a quiet place to eat; other patients, nurses, and visitors were constantly walking by. On the other hand, we had more freedom. In a previous admission at another hospital, Summer hadn’t been allowed any social interaction with the other patients. However, this hospital seemed a vibrant social hub, with visitors non-stop and clowns visiting every weekend to cheer up the little patients.
After three and a half weeks, Summer’s weight had gone up ever so little, even though she meticulously followed the rules they had set for her. We were risking Christmas in the hospital, too; they’d said she could be admitted to the residential program at the beginning of the new year.
I decided it was time to raise hell, as I could not see the benefit of being in the hospital over Christmas, not for Summer, her sister, or me.
I proposed that if they let us go home with a strict meal plan to follow, we would do precisely that, and we could return for check-ups every two or three days. They agreed, so we spent Christmas at home, which was fantastic. The meal plan they gave us worked, and we got to stay home until admission into the residential program. Summer’s sister was thrilled to have us at home for Christmas, as the weeks we were in the hospital also took a toll on her.

Admission to the residential treatment centre

Everything new is scary, and the residential treatment centre was, of course, no different. Although the centre is just over an hour from where we live, it took us three hours to get there on the first day because our satnav got the address wrong and sent us along very unlikely country roads. When we got there, we were exhausted.
We did our registration, and I left with tears in my eyes, leaving Summer behind with tears in her eyes. I could return in the evening to see her, which, of course, I did. Parents, siblings, and occasionally friends are allowed to visit over the weekend, with no visits during the week; however, during Summer’s first two weeks, I could visit her daily; now, I can come every other day during the week to see her.
Being able to visit her during the week is unusual, but because Summer is the youngest there, they agreed to bend the rules. Like the other girls, Summer can use her phone in the evening after dinner, during the week, and almost all Saturday and Sunday on weekends.
There are about 15 girls in the centre, and over these past two months, Summer has made fantastic new friends, and the different social context is doing her good.

Summer’s 12th birthday a happy, happy time

When Summer arrived, she shared a room with two other girls. After about a month, she moved into a room with one other girl, and now she has her own room. The centre offers many activities for the resident girls. They do art therapy, music therapy, karate, individual therapy, group therapy, nutrition therapy, and more. She has also started online schooling for a couple of hours in the morning.
They also arrange group outings, which they are allowed to go on depending on their personal progress. They occasionally get a day or a weekend ‘off’ to go home. Summer misses home, and we miss her incredibly, but she also realises the benefit of being at the centre and cherishes the new friendships she has made so far.
Summer celebrated her 12th birthday there after only two weeks, and the other girls threw her one of the best and most sincere birthday parties ever. Summer hates and loves it there at the same time.

Grateful for the Italian healthcare system

We have no idea how long she will need to stay at the centre. We are guessing another three or four months, but Summer is also aware that she mustn’t come home too soon because it could mean another relapse, and that’s the last thing either of us want.
Although we were initially hesitant, we are fortunate because the residential treatment centre seems to be a good fit for Summer, which we had no way of knowing beforehand. Plus, the Italian healthcare system covers the costs of the residential program, which is fantastic.
Summer doesn’t miss her so-called friends from school in the least. When she returns home, we are thinking about changing several things. A new school in the new school year could be one of them, and hopefully, a new place to live where we can start afresh and make new memories.

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