Brian Cuban’s Story of Eating Disorder & Addiction

Man consideringeating disorder and addiction treatment

The Insanity of Addiction

My recovery has been multi-faceted.

I have been through anorexia, bulimia, addiction problems, alcoholism, steroid addiction, and clinical depression.

I have been in recovery since April 8th, 2007.

Whether it is an eating disorder or addiction, it may not seem humorous at the time, when we’re in the middle of it, but I try to look back on my journey and my recovery with some humor.

When doing so, there is one story that always comes to mind so I’d like to take you all back and share it with you.

The NBA team, the Dallas Mavericks, are going to the finals for the first time in team history. My brother Mark had bought the team in 2000, so, as you might imagine, it was an exciting time for the city and for my family and me.

As you might suspect, I’m going to get some pretty good seats for those games and had an opportunity to get a couple of tickets for my friends. I called my brother, and he got me two free tickets for wonderful seats.

Did I give them to my friends? No.

You’re probably thinking I sold them on eBay for some astronomical amount, well, I didn’t do that either.

That would have been disrespectful to the team, the city, my brother, and my family.

Instead, I took those two tickets and traded them to my cocaine dealer for $1,000 in cocaine.

Selling them on eBay was disrespectful but trading them for cocaine with my dealer was perfectly acceptable, right?

That is how the mind works in addiction.

My dealer shows up at my house because I was a “high-class” addict, so he delivers!

He has this big Ziploc baggie of cocaine. I give him the tickets, he gives me the cocaine, and I run up to my home office, dump all the cocaine out on the desk into a big, white pile.

I’m looking at my “cocaine kingdom” like I’m Scarface.

I do some cocaine, and it gave me the feeling of love and acceptance when I looked in the mirror, the belief that girls like me and that my mother loves me.

At that time, I had a very difficult relationship with my mom.

I felt, when I looked in the mirror, that I was no longer this “fat pig.”

Instead, I saw this monster. I did not love myself, why would anyone else love me?

Man with his face in his hands struggling with his cocaine addictionCocaine, for a few moments, gave me the feeling that everyone did love me, and then I loved myself.

I had been using and was addicted, to cocaine for a very long time at that point.

I was chasing a high that was never going to come again.

I was also profoundly paranoid, which often happens with long-term cocaine addiction. I kept thinking I heard the police outside, thinking “the SWAT team is going to kick down my door.”

I thought maybe I saw the lights and heard the sirens and I have all of this cocaine on my desk, enough to go to jail for a long time. After all, I’m a lawyer; I know these consequences.

I take all the cocaine; I put it back in this big Ziploc baggie. I get in my car, drive up to Home Depot and buy four electrical faceplate outlets, a drill, a saw, and screws.

I drive back to my house, I go to each closet in my upstairs and drill fake electrical outlets in each one through the drywall.

I take the cocaine, put it in separate Ziploc baggies, shut them all up again and put them in the electrical faceplate outlet.

Then, I’m thinking I had done great; I was the cleverest guy ever, the DEA, the police, and the drug dogs have never thought of that one before.

Of course, then, I have to do some more. I felt the pain of addiction paranoia again.

I go back to each of the electrical outlets, unscrew each faceplate, take all the cocaine, put it back in a big Ziploc baggie, go up to the bathroom and flush it all down the toilet…$960 down the drain.

I didn’t do this because of an epiphany on recovery, I did it because of cocaine paranoia.

As so often happens with addiction, when the unpleasantness of an experience is in the rearview mirror, you start thinking it was a one-off.

“I don’t have a problem; it’s all okay.”

The next morning comes, and I feel like an idiot because I flushed all of that cocaine down the toilet.

There’s another game tonight.

How stupid can I be?

basketball game ticketsI call my brother, get two more tickets, call my drug dealer, he shows up with another thousand dollars in cocaine, and he’s looking at me like “dude, you went through $1,000 in cocaine in one night, you have some serious tolerance, what are you an anteater or something?”

Now, I, of course, didn’t want to tell him that I flushed it all down the toilet.

Because I’m thinking it is a badge of honor, among those addicted to cocaine, how much we can do.

The same thing as the night before, dump it out on the desk, do some pain, shame, guilt, paranoia.

Put it all back in the Ziploc baggies, hide in each closet again.

Go back to each closet, get it out and do some more.

Put it back in the Ziploc baggie on more time, go up to the bathroom, drop to my knees (as I did so many times with my addiction and eating disorder), and flushed it all down the toilet again.

They say when Dallas flushes, it ends up in Houston, and so, some people in Houston got kind of high that night.

This story is a perfect example of the “insanity of addiction.”

Resume of Dysfunction

We know that addiction isn’t an insane thing. It is a logical, medically-based, biologically-based process that can affect us both psychologically and physically.

By 18 and as a freshman at Pennsylvania State University, I had developed anorexia.

By the time I had gone onto my sophomore year at Penn State, I had transitioned to bulimia, and I wouldn’t go into recovery from bulimia for over two decades.

By the time I was in my 20’s, around 21 and 22, I was a full-blown “alcoholic” at college. I had to be intoxicated just to be able to leave the house. I would go to the liquor store and buy a pint of Jose Cuervo so I could get drunk cheaply before leaving home.

If I didn’t get drunk before leaving the house, I felt as if I projected myself as the “fat pig” I believed myself to be, this horrible-looking, unlovable monster. I was always seeing that person in the mirror and didn’t know, at the time, that was body dysmorphic disorder.

It’s kind of funny when I talk to a lot of college students about these things. There is always some smart-aleck that will raise his hand and say, “you’re not an alcoholic until you graduate because all college students drink.”

I always emphasize, “No. I was an alcoholic, and you can be. College students have a disturbingly high rate of alcoholism. I was also binge-drinking alcohol. You’re wrong.”

After that, I moved to Dallas and became introduced to cocaine and instantly became addicted to
cocaine.

I had three failed marriages, all failing in one form or another due to my drug use. Two trips to a psychiatric facility. I became suicidal in 2005 and finally went into recovery in 2007.

Now, I know, that’s quite a resume of dysfunction, but it is not an unusual resume.

Many who struggle have a similar resume and are going through multiple issues.

There is a high correlation between drug use, drinking, eating disorders, and depression. However, the path we go through in transitioning to those issues can be distinct for all of us.

For me, it all started back in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I was born in 1961 in Pittsburgh, a baby boomer and the middle of three boys. My older brother is Mark, and my younger brother is Jeff.

Mark is the classic first-born, very outgoing and entrepreneurial. I remember our local newspaper went on strike and Mark and his friends were barely old enough to drive.

They drove out to Cleveland, about 200 miles or so from Pittsburgh, bought a bunch of Cleveland newspapers, drove back and sold them on a street corner. That was the kind of guy he was, and he became known for that.

Brother discussing addictionMy younger brother, Jeff, was a good-looking guy, a nationally-ranked wrestler, drank beer, partied, popular with girls, dates, prom, and all of the things I would come to define as “acceptance.”

I had the classic middle-child syndrome. I was shy and withdrawn, and I wore everything negative that was said about me like a skin-tight suit and internalized it.

I was a heavy kid, at the time bordering on “obese” or “chubby.” I also had a difficult relationship with my mother.

Before the smoke starts coming out of everyone’s ears, I want to be clear: I do not blame my mother for the things I went through. Parents do not cause eating disorders. Parents do not cause addiction.

We do not know what causes either of those things, but we know that there are certain strong contributors and home environment can be part of that. Fat-shaming, bullying, these are all things that correlate with eating disorders, addiction, and depression.

Unfortunately, there was a lot of fat-shaming in my household.

I used to come home from school for lunch in junior high, and I loved to eat Chef Boyardee canned ravioli.

My mother would see me come home and eat that and say “Bryan if you keep eating like that, you’re gonna be a fat pig.”

Mother scolding her sonNow, these were the things her mother had said to her, the things my great-grandmother had said to my grandmother. My mother was merely repeating the cycle and did not know any better.

We didn’t know. There was no research on fat-shaming, fat-teasing, and how these things cycle generationally.

This was the 1970’s, she was a young mother doing the best she can at the time, and we didn’t talk about depression or any of these things because it was all shameful. We internalized it.

My mother dealt with a lot of mental health issues and internalized those things.

I don’t blame her, but, you might imagine, as a young boy hearing these things, I grew depressed. I remember feeling the painful stomach twisting pangs of depression and loneliness where I would isolate myself in my bedroom for long periods of time, thinking that I was a “fat pig” and that I was unloved.

To soothe that, I ate more Chef Boyardee, more ravioli, and got heavier and heavier.

What then happens is that kids are starting to change. The bullying starts, the teasing, the fat-shaming, “Brian, you need to go to Sears & Roebuck to get a bra” for my enlarged breasts, heavy things like that.

“Brian, you’re a fat pig.”

Okay, they must have talked to my mother.

The Day of the Golden Pants

I remember this severe bullying episode over my weight in school like it was yesterday, and it all culminated to what I call “the day of my gold pants.”

My brother, Mark, had given me a pair of his shiny gold bell-bottom disco pants. They were very “John Travolta” in Saturday Night Fever.

Mark gave me these pants. They had fit him great because he wasn’t a big guy, but they did not fit me well at all. My butt didn’t look right. It appeared as though I had 15 cats back there.

I didn’t care because I loved my brother, my brother loved me, and these pants were a symbol of his love, they were a symbol that someone loved me.

My “John Travolta Gold Disco Pants” was my symbol of love.

I wore those pants to school all the time, and because Mark was popular, I wanted to be popular like him.

Instead of me being popular, the kids just made fun of me because my stomach hung over my gold pants because they were so tight.

It all culminated to one day when I was walking home from school. It was about a mile walk from the high school to where we lived in Pittsburgh, where my mother still lives.

Kids started making fun of my pants and decided it would be hilarious to see what I looked like without these pants on because they didn’t look good on me.

They physically assaulted me, ripped off my shiny, gold, bell-bottom disco pants, and tore them to shreds and threw them in the street.

I was down to my Fruit of the Looms “tighty whities” with my stomach hanging over, and those kids went on like they had done the greatest thing ever.

If this had happened today, you’d have 15 million YouTube views. Back then, just 15 kids in the lunchroom knowing about it meant it went viral.

Even so, it didn’t hurt any less. It was excruciating for me, to the point that even today I can go to the exact spot and show you exactly where it happened.

It was traumatic.

Young man struggling with an Eating Disorder & AddictionIt was around that time that I remember really thinking of myself as that “fat pig,” that unlovable person looking in the mirror and seeing this huge stomach that covered my whole body. This is the beginnings of body dysmorphic disorder in 1979, long before it would be studied.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD) is when you take a small or non-existent defect in your body and exaggerate it in your perceived reflection.

It is not a visual delusion. It is a perceived, over-powering feeling to the point where you must fix it to live a “normal” life.

For me, that defect was my stomach, but for others, it may be their facial figures or hair. There are many different ways a person can experience body dysmorphic disorder.

BDD has a very high correlation with eating disorders. I believe it was a 30% correlation, last I checked. It also has a strong association with drug and alcohol use and a strong relationship with suicide.

It affects about 2-3% of the population and affects men and women equally.

It was “the day of my gold pants” that I remember really beginning to experience the effects of BDD.

You’re Not an Alcoholic Until You Graduate

I graduated from high school and went on to Penn State University.

During my freshman year, I had an incident that I remember as if it was yesterday. It was Fall Semester, and my father had driven me up for orientation.

Remember, I had never been on a date, never kissed a girl, I’d never been in prom, all of those things that I thought defined acceptance and popularity. Every day, I saw the prom king and the prom queen and kids holding hands, getting the first kiss, going to the gym dance with dates. I was one of “geeks” standing against the wall that nobody wanted to dance with.

My dad is helping me unpack at college, and I make eye contact with this girl standing in the parking lot, and I start sweating because she’s looking at me, too.

I start imagining my entire life with this girl. She had long, brown, curly hair and, in my eye, flashed my whole life with this girl within a span of 15 seconds. I was thinking “we’re gonna date, we’re gonna get married, we’re gonna have 2 ½ children.”

It wasn’t a smile, it was a smirk, and she cups her hands over her mouth and says, “Ugly! Ugly!”

I’m not the first kid that has had nasty things said to him by other teenagers and young adults. It went on then, and it goes on now.

But, I was somebody who has already broken. I had a terrible self-image, and I remember, right then, like it was yesterday that at that moment, my whole life seemed out of control to me.

I would never be loved. I would never get married. I would never have my mother’s love.

(Although I know now my mom did love me and we have a great relationship)

I would always be that guy standing against the wall in the high school gym, never asked to dance, never getting asked on a date.

How could I get control of my life? It was just spinning out of control. What did I have control over?

Food.

I had control over food.

I associated eating more with Chef Boyardee ravioli and getting heavy.

So, I decided the path to acceptance was to get thinner.

I thought, “if I got thinner, I would be just like the high school prom king.” The prom queen and the girl in that parking lot wouldn’t think I was ugly anymore.

It was then, as a freshman at Penn State in 1979, that I began to restrict and restrict and restrict.

I had delved into anorexic behavior and that weight-loss and restricting gave me feelings of acceptance.

If this is triggering to anyone, know that I am going to discuss weighing myself but with the disclaimer that it is an unhealthy behavior.

I began weighing myself obsessively. I would go to the infirmary sometimes twice a day.

I remember that I once caught a glimpse of the nurse’s notes:

Woman on the beach concerned that she is addicted to alcohol“Mr. Cuban is coming in and weighing himself obsessive-compulsively. We don’t know what to make of this, and it worries us.”

They never said a word to me about it.

This was 1979. Karen Carpenter later passed away in 1983 from anorexia, bringing eating disorders into the pre-digital spotlight.

But that hadn’t happened yet.

I was a guy experience eating disorder behavior, but there was just no awareness.

There was nothing they could make of it. Nobody was trained to recognize the signs back then.

There was no public stigma to this type of behavior back then either because for there to be a stigma there needs to be a conversation. No one was talking about these things, certainly not for men, even though we now know that about 25% of all those with eating disorders are male.

Then, I would transition into the act of bingeing and purging towards the end of my freshman year, in 1980.

I remember that, just like the compulsive weighing, for the 15 seconds during the act of bingeing and purging it felt as if everything was okay. That the next day that girl would like. The next day, I would get asked out on a date. The next day, my mother would love me.

But, when those 15 seconds went away, the same just came in like a tornado or hurricane into my stomach of an act of shame that I did not understand.

Bulimia had only been a clinical diagnosis since 1976.

I don’t even remember what the thought process was that brought me from restricting to the bingeing and purging, but I remember that it gave me 15 seconds of relief.

That is how I would experience bulimia for over two decades, into my 40’s.

Then, at the age of 21, I became old enough to drink and, simultaneously, discovered exercise bulimia.

I began running in an obsessive-compulsive manner about 10 to 20 miles per day.

College Students discussing the definition of alcoholicWith my clinical depression, I so wanted just to be alone. To be alone with my eating disorder. To be alone with my clinical depression because I didn’t think anyone would ever love me anyway.

Every college student I looked at, I projected that they saw what I saw in myself, so I just felt it was better to do things alone.

I was also bingeing and purging, started drinking multiple times a week, and going to class drunk.

So, now I’m an alcoholic. Now, I’m an exercise bulimic. Now, I’m a traditional bulimic.

There were some days between all these destructive behaviors that I was so dehydrated I couldn’t get out of bed. I could feel my heart having arrhythmias, and I was very lucky I didn’t have a stroke.

I didn’t seek counseling, I wasn’t aware there was any counseling.

I wasn’t aware that, for the drinking, there was 12-step (Alcoholics Anonymous) but, as a college student, I probably wouldn’t have taken advantage of it anyways.

There was something so shameful about all of it to me.

I remember once walking through my hamburger joint drunk. I saw a rack of pamphlets for the 12-step groups.

The pamphlet had about 20 questions of “You might be an alcoholic if…” and my answers were yes, yes, yes, yes.

No.

I’m not an alcoholic. I’m a college student. That’s what I thought made it okay.

Brian Cuban’s Story of Eating Disorder & Addiction – A Summary of The Addicted Lawyer

I did graduate from Penn State, and I had to decide what I was going to do with my life. I decided I would go to law school, not because I wanted to be a lawyer, wanted to change the world, or wanted to make money.

I decided I wanted to go to law school because I could binge and purge, run 20 miles a day, drink as much as I wanted, and not have to answer to anyone or look at anyone.

I could repeat the same cycles of survival, day-to-day, which I engaged in at Penn State.

I did well enough on the Law School Admission Test to get into Pitt Law, believe it or not.

I was not a very good student at law, as you might imagine, because those were the things I did: binging and purging, drinking, getting drunk all the time, running. My classes were not important to me, and I graduated by the skin of my teeth.

I have a whole other discussion about that with my book The Addictive Lawyer, but I’ll give you the highlights.

I was at the bottom of my class, so close to not graduating that I still have nightmares of the Dean pulling my diploma back from me as I reach for it and saying, “Sike, you didn’t graduate.”

So, I graduated from Pitt Law, and I have to make the same decisions. What am I going to do with my life?

I decide I’m going to move to Dallas, Texas.

I took the Pennsylvania bar, passed, packed up and moved there so that I could move in with my brothers, Mark and Jeff. I honestly thought that their love could save me.

Sometimes that’s one of the things that are dysfunctional in these issues, distinguishing between love and health.

I moved in with Mark, and it was like throwing gasoline on a fire because they’re young, and they don’t know about my issues. So, we’re drinking and partying. They weren’t doing drugs, but they’re dating.

I discovered cocaine in 1987 and instantly became addicted psychologically and then physically. I depended on it.

Brian Cuban's Addicted Lawyer discusses his struggles with addiction

Anyone who says you cannot become physically addicted to cocaine the very first time, or any drug, needs to talk to me because I instantly became addicted.

I became addicted to the feeling of looking in the mirror and finally seeing someone, for as long as the cocaine would last, that loved himself, that was cool, that did great in law school, whose parents loved him, and his mother loved him.

Like bingeing and purging, I had to have that feeling again, and again, and again.

This was my life in cocaine addiction, and all of my vices would eventually take over my life.

I would fail the Texas bar exam twice, both times because it was more important for me to drink and do cocaine and run 20 miles a day than study.

The first time I took it, I spent two nights in a hotel with a bag of cocaine, a liter of Jack, and a liter of Tab.

My Ascent to Recovery

I would eventually pass the Texas Bar Exam on my third time, but the drugs and alcohol took over my life.

I was using cocaine and going into the courtroom. I was bingeing and purging in court bathrooms. I was showing up to work high on cocaine and drunk.

I eventually lost all of my clients and became suicidal in 2005.

My brothers showed up at my house in July 2005. I had a weapon on my nightstand, and they took me on my first of two trips to Green Oaks Psychiatric Hospital kicking and screaming.

They couldn’t hold me there because I’m a lawyer, I know these things.

I swore I wasn’t a danger to myself or others, so we did what I called the “Cuban Rehab.” They took me back home, took my car keys, and said, “stay in your house for two weeks, and you’ll be okay.”

My family didn’t know about addiction.

My only thought was, “no problem, my drug dealer delivers, happy to stay home.”

The one thought I had, after all that, was not about recovery but that I now know I need to distance from my brothers.

So, I started distancing more and hanging out only with people I did cocaine or drank with or did it all alone in my house.

I had lost all of my clients. I no longer had a career as a lawyer, and life went on like that.

My brother, Mark, gave me a job, hoping that would help me pull it together, but I failed miserably.

As a result of drugs, alcohol, and my eating disorder, my life continued to decline.

Then, in 2006 or 2007, I met a girl while I was out doing a week-long cocaine and alcohol birthday celebration. She didn’t know anything about any of this. She didn’t do those things.

We started dating, and for a period of time, I was able to put on the mask I needed to wear to make people think I was a respectable lawyer and not dealing with mental health issues or addiction.

She moved in with me, and she went away to Houston for Easter weekend. The next thing I know, it’s two days later, she is over my bed, and I’m wondering what day it is. There are drugs everywhere, and there’s alcohol everywhere. I’d had a two-day drug and alcohol blackout.

So, she’s wondering what the hell is going on here, and I’m trying to think of ways to lie my way out of the situation. Obviously, that was impossible because all of the evidence was right there. So, we go back for my second trip to Green Oaks Psychiatric Hospital.

I’m standing in the parking lot. It’s Easter 2007, and a few things occurred to me:

  1. Happy couple after receiving Eating Disorder & Addiction treatmentI’d be dead if I didn’t get help.
  2. There wasn’t going to be a third trip back to Green Oaks Psychiatric.
  3. She was going to leave.

Thankfully, she didn’t leave. She stood by me. We ended up dating for a very long time, over a decade as I found my recovery. In finding my recovery, I discovered I was recovering for me and not for her and not for anyone else.

You have to do recovery for you and not for someone else. Otherwise, you’re always going to be vulnerable to being triggered in some way.

I worked on myself, and after an extended period, we ended up getting married. And, we just recently celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary.

While not all relationships will survive this, it is possible for a relationship to endure these things. Every situation will be different.

One other thing I realized in that parking lot was that I was going to lose my family.

Families may love us unconditionally, but there are going to be limits on their willingness to do so.

I didn’t want to lose that, so I decided, standing in that parking lot, that it was time to take the first terrifying step into recovery.

My Ascent to Recovery – Part 2

The next day, I walked into my psychiatrist’s office, to whom I had been lying for two years. I finally got honest about everything. I knew I had an eating disorder and what they were, but I was ashamed to admit it because I was a guy.

I knew there were people that did drugs and drank because I had partied with them. I knew I had a body image issue but had no idea what Body Dysmorphic Disorder was, and in my mind, I was the only male in the world that binged and purged. I felt totally alone.

My psychiatrist and I decided I would try a 12-step program as the first start in trying to get sober. I refused to go to residential treatment because I felt I was “much too important.”

I remember him saying, “Brian, you may have a law degree, but you stopped being a big-time lawyer a long time ago. You’re an addict.” That was kind of profound, and it certainly had an impact on me.

April 8, 2007, I walked into my first 12-step meeting, and I remember crying. I smelled, I was sweating. I sat in the corner. I wouldn’t give my name, and I was embarrassed.

It took me an hour just to walk down the hallway and through the door. I kept trying to peek in to see if I knew anyone.

I’m thinking, “are there any lawyers in there? Nope.” I walked in, and as you might guess, a lot of them were lawyers.

After that meeting, I realized that I might have a unique story, but all of the stories were basically the same: drinking, pain, shame, destruction, self-destruction, collateral damage, etc.

I started listening.

It was a wide variety of people all going through what I went through, and I thought, “okay, I’m not special, I’m not alone, I’ll give it a try.”

At the end of the meeting, they offer what is called a desire chip, a 24-hour desire to stay sober, which I was rarely able to do.

I stood up, I picked up that desire chip and hugged the guy that gave it to me. That guy eventually became my sponsor, and I remember thinking I wasn’t going to make it 24 hours.

I did.

That was April 8, 2007, and I have not taken drugs, had a drink, binged, or purged since then.

It wasn’t as simple as 12-steps. That was just one tool in my recovery. I still see a psychiatrist every week.

I have been through many different types of therapy to deal with my body dysmorphic disorder, and my eating disorder, and to repair my self-image.

I have been through Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, I’ve been through Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, role-playing therapy to repair the relationship with my mother, role-playing therapy to repair the relationship with my teenage self.

13-year-old Brian and his mom

I talk to my inner-child all the time. I tell him he was loved, and a 13-year-old Brian has been repaired.

I was very lucky that I was able to repair my relationship with my mother because she was able to explain to me that she was going through her own mental health issues, and we both forgave one another.

She wasn’t making excuses. She was just explaining what was happening, and once I understood all that, I was able to forgive her.

She also forgave me. There was a time when we did blame each other, and when I forgave her, I let go of the anger. Once I let go of the anger, I was able to much more progress in my own self-love, loving the Brian I see in the mirror and not seeing this “fat pig.”

That is still an ongoing process. I’m sober but take medication every day for my clinical depression.

I often get asked what my current biggest struggle is. It is not the drugs and alcohol because I can remove those from the equation. What I can’t remove from the equation is food. I have to eat to live.

My biggest recovery struggle today is the exercise bulimia. I still have to work on my relationship with exercise and food. My mind has a tendency to convert everything I look at to calories because of the exercise bulimia.

Now, I have many tools that I can use. I now understand that my disorder does not define who I am. I know that if my mind subconsciously thinks something, I do not have to act on it.

Recovery is an ongoing process, but I still live a very happy and productive life with problems like everyone else. However, I have the tools to deal with these things, tools that I didn’t have in 1979.

Now, I work every day on realizing that I am enough no matter how I look. I do not need to compensate exercise for food to be loved and to love myself.

Every day, I get a little bit better, and I love myself a little bit more.

Thank you for letting me share my story. I hope it helps someone find recovery.

Source:

Virtual Presentation by Brian Cuban in the Dec. 7, 2017 Eating Disorder Hope Inaugural Online Conference & link to the press release at https://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/eating-disorder-hope-offers-inaugural-online-conference-300550890.html


Brian CubanAbout the Presenter: Author: Brian Cuban is an author whose Amazon best-selling book “Shattered Image: My Triumph Over Body Dysmorphic Disorder,” chronicles his first-hand experiences living with, and recovering from eating disorders, drug addiction and Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD).
Brian speaks regularly about his recovery, childhood bullying, fat shaming and breaking the mail eating disorder stigma. He has spoken at prestigious locations such as University of North Carolina Center for Eating Disorder Excellence. He has keynoted prestigious events such as the Entertainment Industries Council 3rd Annual Media and Mental Health Awards. Brian has appeared on national talk shows such as the Katie Couric show discussing the above issues. Brian also writes extensively on these subjects. His columns have appeared on CNN.com, Foxnews.com, The Huffington Post and in online and print newspapers around the world.

Based in Dallas, Texas, Cuban is also the segment host for “Brian Cuban’s Legal Briefs” on EyeOpenerTV, and founder of his blog, The Cuban Revolution. Additionally, Cuban is a lawyer and activist specializing in 1st Amendment issues and hate speech and has lectured on the topic in major media outlets and conferences around the world. For more information, visit www.briancuban.com


Image of Margot Rittenhouse.About the Transcript Editor: Margot Rittenhouse is a therapist who is passionate about providing mental health support to all in need and has worked with clients with substance abuse issues, eating disorders, domestic violence victims, and offenders, and severely mentally ill youth.

As a freelance writer for Eating Disorder and Addiction Hope and a mentor with MentorConnect, Margot is a passionate eating disorder advocate, committed to de-stigmatizing these illnesses while showing support for those struggling through mentoring, writing, and volunteering. Margot has a Master’s of Science in Clinical Mental Health Counseling from Johns Hopkins University.


The opinions and views of our guest contributors are shared to provide a broad perspective of eating disorders. These are not necessarily the views of Eating Disorder Hope, but an effort to offer a discussion of various issues by different concerned individuals.

We at Eating Disorder Hope understand that eating disorders result from a combination of environmental and genetic factors. If you or a loved one are suffering from an eating disorder, please know that there is hope for you, and seek immediate professional help.

Published on June 25, 2018.
Reviewed & Approved by Jacquelyn Ekern MS, LPC on July 13, 2018


Published on EatingDisorderHope.com