What you don’t see on the recovery pamphlet is that for many of us, it’s part trauma response. Eating disorders affect people of all genders, ages, races, and sizes.

ADHD isn’t just a quirky “ooh, shiny object” condition, as it’s often portrayed. We’re not just airheads who get distracted now and then; it’s definitely not a superpower. Forgetting appointments and struggling to focus on boring but necessary tasks won’t save the world from villains.

We’re not meant to fix each other’s pain - we’re meant to stay with it. This piece explores what to say when you don’t know what to say, how to hold space without centering yourself, and why real connection often starts in the quiet, uncomfortable moments we tend to avoid.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to the unseen currents that guide us. What started as curiosity soon became a way of living, a way of understanding myself. 

The way depression is diagnosed, with a questionnaire about your feelings and behaviors and their durations, is not as perspicuous as, say, a blood test for diabetes. There’s no way of knowing that you’re in need of medication until you give it a go and see if it helps with symptoms.

Between teeing off and putting on the green, I was always in the deep stuff. And now, standing on this perfect, short grass? It felt weird. Too clean. Too open. I could see my ball clearly. I knew I shouldn’t use my usual “rough swing” because that would tear up the fairway, and I didn’t want to ruin it for the next person. But now I have no excuses. I couldn’t say, “Well, I could barely see my ball,” or “Those trees were in the way.” It was just me, the ball, and wide-open space. 

Part of me almost wants something to be wrong in these moments. At least then there’d be an explanation. At least I could take action. I could move past the dread and deal with the actual Thing, because whatever it is, I’ve already played out a thousand scenarios. But this time, I couldn’t find anything. No reason. No cause. I checked on all my people, pets, and places. Everything seemed a-okay. I ran through my mental to-do list. There were things hanging out there, sure, but nothing critical or life-altering. 

I asked my friends at At The Roots to share the books that have helped them in their recovery journeys. What I got was a diverse list of amazing suggestions. In true At The Roots fashion, there’s not just self-help here - you’ll find wisdom, meaning, and powerful storytelling.

Healing sounds like such a pretty word but in reality it can be long and painful. I’m doing all the “right” things, but some days I still find myself…affected.

From day one, Nick brought the flexibility and adaptability this work truly demands. Whether the day called for a last-minute agenda shift or juggling multiple tasks at once, he handled it all with grace, humor, and a positive attitude.