A Brand New Day: Finding Hope and Recovery in the Flower Aisle of Trader Joe's
Because sometimes you'll be okay
TW: This piece discusses eating disorders and eating disorder behaviors
I slept in until 8 a.m. on a sunny February day. It was my first day without treatment in over a month. I had stepped down from a partial hospitalization program, where I spent five days a week receiving treatments for my eating disorder, to an intensive outpatient program, which was three days a week. In addition to treatment, I was a full-time student and working two jobs (my future therapist would be horrified that I did all that while in treatment). I felt lost but kept saying to myself, “Just breathe, just eat, don’t purge. Just breathe, just eat, don’t purge.”
I still had class in the afternoon and a dietician appointment in the morning, but after days of going from treatment to class to work to food prep to treatment homework to sleep, several free hours in the morning seemed like a luxury.
My dietician was just across the bridge from Trader Joe’s. After my appointment, I walked across the bridge, pausing to admire the glisten of lights on the water and the fresh air that was not found in a fluorescent room with 12 other people who were struggling to get through the day.
At my appointment, my dietician encouraged me to challenge foods. These were foods that I would usually be afraid to eat. Once I entered the grocery store, I became overwhelmed. At that point in my recovery, most foods were a challenge. I had little food in my apartment and could not walk out of that store without groceries. My breath got deeper as I went down an aisle that was particularly challenging. I stared at all the options. I started shaking. But I bargained with myself: I would buy a treat for my friend and a treat for myself. I put them in my basket and got out of that aisle.
I was proud of myself for getting it done, and I wanted to buy myself flowers. I was in a tough financial spot because transportation to and from treatment was expensive. One voice in my head said, “You don’t deserve this. This is stupid. Save your money for future groceries, you idiot.” The other voice, which was slightly louder, said, “Go buy yourself flowers. You haven’t purged in eight days, you got challenge foods, and you’ve been working damn hard. You deserve it.”
I listened to the louder voice because I was tired and overwhelmed.
However, as soon as I got to the flower aisle, a song started playing:
When I woke the world was new
I never had to ask
It's a brand new day
The sun is shining
It's a brand new day
For the first time in such a long long time
I know I'll be OK
Most kind of stories
Save the best part for last
And most stories have a hero who finds
You make your past your past
Yeah you make your past your past
It's a brand new day
The sun is shining
This cycle never ends
You gotta fall in order to mend
It's a brand new day
For the first time in such a long long time
I know I'll be OK
Tears ran down my face. It was as if something larger than myself was telling me that things were going to be okay. That even without going to seven hours of treatment, I could be okay. My eating disorder disconnected me from everything: my body, myself, my faith, my emotions, and my whole being. But in that moment, after years of feeling disconnected, I felt surrounded by the love of the universe. Tears were still running down my face when I checked out, but I was smiling, and the employee in the sweatshirt just smiled back and I could feel her warmth.
I carried my groceries back across the bridge because I wanted to save money on my Uber. The light on the water glistened brighter than before. It was a brand new day, and I knew I would be okay.
When I got in the Uber, I asked the driver to drop me off at the bus station, which was halfway back to campus. He saw my two bags of groceries and insisted on driving me all the way, free of charge. He told me that he wants to live a life of helping others. He didn’t know that this was a time of great transition and struggle for me. He just kept driving out of the kindness of his heart.
I believe in kindness and signs and small acts. I believe in the love that connects us in ways that we cannot understand.
The days following this were not easy. Between a change in meds and the step down in treatment, my mind went to the darkest places. However, I carried that moment of being okay with me. It was a moment where I could finally breathe, let go, and focus on something bigger than myself. Whenever I couldn’t find my breath, I would return to that flower aisle in Trader Joe’s and remind myself of the love that I felt. I would remind myself to keep going because there will be a brand new day that will be okay.
This Week in Comfort
My fatigue has been quite bad in the past week, so I been napping for the past few days. Sleep is my BIGGEST priority right now
I’ve been deep in true crime documentaries. Are they ethic or good for everyone’s mental health? Absolutely not, but it’s definitely a good distraction
I’ve done this deep stretch yoga class weekly. So good for the body and mind.
Thank you for these beautiful words. As someone with an extensive history of EDs, I really appreciate your disclaimer near the end that many more hard days and dark places came after your profound "moment of being okay." I have experienced similar moments of okay-ness and relief only to be discouraged when the hard stuff inevitably makes its return. I love how you give this moment in Trader Joe's the recognition and regard it deserves in the longer arc of your recovery.