These days Gold is on better terms with her family. She received a Prozac prescription at the Meadows, but she said she had weaned herself off it. And she comes to the rink in any kind of weather wearing rimless orange sunglasses, which give her a brighter outlook.

Gold gravitated back to skating because she sought the kind of structure that had grounded her during treatment. Last spring, she moved to the Philadelphia area for a fresh start with a new coach, Vincent Restencourt, who earned her trust by insisting that she gradually reverse her weight gain. He insists on dining with Gold at least once a week, and at their first meal together he coaxed her into eating at least half a hamburger, emphasizing that she should not starve herself back into shape.

Since June, Gold has lost more than 30 pounds, the result of a healthier combination of foods, she said, not any fad diet.

She gives skating lessons to young children and adults, trains alongside teenagers and wonders what they must be thinking.

“When I was their age,” Gold said, “I never had a semiretired, mentally ill Olympian come to my rink.”

The comeback feels a lot like starting from scratch. The first time Gold executed a clean triple Lutz, she felt an immense sense of accomplishment. “You forget how magical those moments are,” she said.

Whenever Gold returns to competition, she will have a new long program, the one she planned to unveil in Detroit. It is set to Sara Bareilles’s “She Used to Be Mine,” a song that she found in her mother’s playlist.