My eating disorder story

It all started at the age of 16. I felt like my life was in turmoil as my parents went through a divorce and I was in a relationship with an abusive guy. At the time, I played volleyball and loved the sport – it was my only outlet, I forgot about all problems on the court. I gained just a few pounds my sophomore year of high school and decided I wanted to lose just 2-3 pounds. At the time, Atkins diet was all the rage so I cut out carbs. In a little over a week, I had lost 3 pounds. I thought “wow that was easy!” And then…I was addicted. I felt so in control of this one area of my life. THIS! This I could control; all I have to do is CONTROL what I eat, and I can control myself and my life. For a year I severely limited eating. I would go days at a time not eating. I felt like I was “succeeding” when I felt pain in my stomach, the empty feeling and growling was my friend because it meant I was in control of my body. I constantly checked the size of my wrists, my arms, my waist, every size I went down was a victory. When I did eat, I would obsess about getting on the treadmill and running until the calories burned showed the amount of calories I had eaten. I was on my way to being “perfect.” I hated myself every time I ate. I would have hot beverages constantly because it felt soothing and made the hunger go away. I would call chewing gum my dinner. When I did eat, it was usually a container of yogurt and a piece of fruit. When I graduated High School I weighed 84 at 5’ 2”….and I hated myself for it - for being too fat, for not being good enough, for eating at all which meant I wasn’t in control. (People with an eating disorder are often simultaneously crying out for attention and trying to shrink away from the world. Either my family/friends were too distracted with their own problems or too uncomfortable to bring it up with me, but my cries for attention were not met in ways that filled my cup, and so the cycle continued.)

 I remember the first day I walked up 1 flight of stairs and was so out of breath I had to sit down. That was a little scary, but I brushed it off and told myself to stop being a baby. From the age of 16-18 I continued this severe food restricting. However, one can only not eat for so long. The body’s animal part of the brain (the caveman brain) begins to take over. I would sometimes literally eat and feel like a wild dog, like I was so far from being in control it’s hard to explain. This only added insult to injury – I was doing this to be IN control! As I gave into some of these food cravings more and more, I realized I would gain weight. I slowly fell into bulimia. Each time I overate, I would feel desperate to purge the food and calories and eventually turned to laxative abuse. Over the years the frequency and the number of pills I took just kept increasing. But I told myself I was okay: I could still function, I was a star student and employee, my hair & skin still looked pretty healthy. I was definitely not sick…I was “fine.” (People with an eating disorder are often rockstars in many areas of their life - hardworking, ambitious, model employees, kind & loving friends. Success in other areas of life leads them think they are “fine” in this area of life too.)

Finally at the age of 21 it hit me that I was no longer in control – nothing even close to it. I had hit several rock bottoms in my binge/purge cycles. The guilt and shame was almost unbearable. I didn’t even want to see another human because it almost felt like they will know how awful I am. I wondered constantly, '“could they see right through me?”

Very sadly, I don’t remember much more than my eating disorder for several years. My mind was so consumed by thoughts of how much I ate, how many calories I ate, how much I weighed, when I would eat next, what it would be, what workout I would do, etc. It’s very painful to me now that I don’t have those memories, but it is a very important lesson. I don’t want this to happen to anybody else.

Long story short, I never received professional help. I chose to take the LONG road of self-recovery on my own. I SLOWLY got my confidence back, worked on eating more regularly, tried to think nicer thoughts, tried to silence the “eating disorder brain” that was so judgement and critical. It was so much more than these few words of course, and it took years. I called myself recovered by the age of 25. Or so I though. I now, at the age of 34, can truly say I am fully recovered. So, like I said, it was a LONG road of 13 years. The love and support of my husband helped tremendously - unconditional love can go a long way in helping another person in ways we don’t even realize. But I hid many things from him and other family members because of the shame. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through their journey alone!