Is ED recovery easier when your body is “normative or stereotypically desirable”? The anon asking the question implied that recovery could be more difficult because “an obese person … will never stop hearing hearing extremely triggering stuff about their body type.” Anon asked, “Have there been any studies on this?” Andrea tackled this question in her last post (it might be helpful to read it first if you haven’t yet); in this post, I will expand on my original answer.
Assuming anon meant, “Have there been anything studies assessing whether recovery is harder for individuals who do not fit the normative body type (because of fat phobia/fat shaming/diet culture)?” Then, my answer is: Not really, or at least I couldn’t find anything evaluating this question directly.
I was only able to find a few studies commenting on the history of overweight or obesity as a predictor of recovery/treatment outcome (but there are probably more):
When Tetyana Tweeted and “Tumblr-ed” (is there a better name for putting something on Tumblr?) a quote from a qualitative research article about ambivalence and eating disorders, I knew I would want to write a blog post about it. Of course, life happened, and so this post is coming a little later than I had intended. Nonetheless, I am happy to be sharing a post about a fresh article by Karin Eli (2014) about eating disorders and ambivalence in the inpatient hospital setting. The article itself is published through PLOS One and so is also open access, in case you are interested in reading the original.
This article is about one aspect of a larger longitudinal study Eli conducted in Israel between 2005 and 2011. The broader study explores the “sensory experiences” (embodied feelings, sensations, and perceptions) of individuals with eating disorders and how these relate to identity. This paper considers one part of participants’ broader stories of having eating disorders; specifically, how individuals with eating disorders experienced inpatient hospitalization.
Eli conducted interviews with 13 participants. …
Today I have the distinct pleasure of writing about one of my favourite articles about eating disorder recovery by Malson et al. (2011) exploring how inpatients talk about eating disorder recovery. I have personally found this article to be very helpful in understanding some of the difficulties of understanding and achieving recovery in our social context.
As Malson and colleagues explain (and as we’ve established), eating disorder recovery is elusive. Often, poor prognosis is described in relation to individual factors, including:
Problematically, seeing these as the primary reasons for which patients do not recover can make individuals with eating disorders themselves feel as though they are to blame for their “inability to recover,” which help approximately no one. How do patients internalize these kinds of framings, and what impact does it have on how possible they feel recovery is?
Malson et al. used discourse analysis to explore patients’ perspectives, looking at how these participants felt about themselves currently and imagined their future “in recovery.”
Should eating disorder patients be introduced to “junk food” or “hyper-palatable” foods during treatment? A few days ago, I stumbled across a blog post where Dr. Julie O’Toole, Founder and Director of the Kartini Clinic for Disordered Eating, argues against introducing “junk food” during ED treatment. The crux of the argument is that “hyperpalatable foods”—e.g., chips and Cheetos—are not real food and should never be forced or encouraged for anyone, regardless of the presence of an eating disorder:
A lot of ink has been spilled on teaching Americans in general and children in particular to make good food choices. Just because you have anorexia nervosa as a child, and desperately need to gain and maintain adequate weight, does not mean that you will be immune from the health effects of bad eating as you get older. This is true whether or not you get fat later on. You can be thin and unhealthy; you can destroy a lot of things by ingesting a chemical cuisine in the place of real food.
While I don’t disagree that some foods are more …
One of the most common definitions of eating disorder recovery I have seen comes from a 2010 study by Bardone-Cone et al. Before I begin exploring this study I thought I might direct readers to some more resources on recovery: Carrie Arnold over at ED Bites wrote a few posts about recovery on her blog, and the first in the series can be found here. In this post, Carrie looks at the 3 dimensions of recovery that surface in Bardone-Cone’s article, so I thought I might also explore a study Bardone-Cone et al. published in the same year, which specifically touches on self-concept in eating disorder recovery, for variety’s sake.
Aspects of Eating Disorder Recovery
One of the most appealing things about Bardone-Cone and colleagues’ definition of recovery is that it looks at more than just the physical aspects of recovery. The researchers conceptualize recovery instead as comprised of 3 main areas:
Of these elements, Bardone-Cone et al. argue that the psychological elements of recovery are the most often absent from definitions and understandings …
What does eating disorder recovery really look like? When you say the word “recovery,” differences of opinion loom large. The lack of definitional clarity around the concept of recovery came up many times at ICED, and continues to surface in discussions among researchers, clinicians, and individuals with eating disorders themselves. We’ve looked at recovery on the blog before (for example, Gina looked at how patients define recovery here; Tetyana surveyed readers about their perspectives on whether or not they thought of themselves as being in recovery and wrote about it here; I wrote about men’s experiences after recovery here). It’s something of a hot topic in the research literature, too.
My Master’s thesis focused primarily on recovery, with one “take home message” being that there can be a disconnect between what recovery means in treatment settings, in popular understanding, and among individuals who have experienced eating disorders. Of course, my study was qualitative and from a critical feminist standpoint, so it is still unclear how well my findings map onto the larger dynamics of recovery. Still, understanding …
I must admit that I cringe slightly every time I try to think about healthcare from an economics perspective. To me, this comes a little close to putting a dollar value on human beings, which feels uncomfortably post-humanistic to me. Nonetheless, there is no ignoring the ways in which economic concerns factor into policy decisions that drive our human services, including health care.
There are also a number of pragmatic reasons for thinking about the costs associated with illnesses; talking in dollars and cents can make for a convincing argument when seeking funding to do research on a particular illness, for example. The ability to reduce healthcare costs is incredibly compelling in a time of fiscal restraint.
Crow (2014) published a short article about the economic costs of eating disorder treatment. In this article, he highlights some recent studies that have examined factors related to “the economics of eating disorders” and suggests avenues for future research in this area.
I will preface my analysis by noting that healthcare economics are not my area of expertise, and I doubt …