There is no such thing as "Used to be an Anorexic"

There is no such thing as “Used to be an Alcoholic” similarly there is no such thing as “Used to be an Anorexic.” On January 1, 1985, I went on a diet. Some five or six years and probably thirty or so pounds later, I found a way to finally quit that damn thing. So, I no longer diet, but my brain is still Anorexic. It was never about the weight, really. Addiction, self loathing and absolute control. These words are the heart and soul of an eating disorder. I have searched my own mind and soul for the truth to this disease for many years and frankly I am not certain I have discovered the truth or that I ever will. Recently, I took a mental journey back to those treacherous days; many days that I lost completely to a very cruel disease. It is a disease I still do not fully comprehend

Along that mental journey I revisited:
v Hours of mental planning to make a meal look eaten
v Flushing expensive nutritional drinks down the toilet
v Sneaking to the restroom to do push ups and jumping jacks
v Tuesday mornings spent in the nurse’s office drinking as much water as the bladder could possibly hold to fool the scale and my mom. Tuesdays were “weigh in day”
v Filling my empty stomach on lettuce alone
v Staring down the scale, anticipating a read of 85 pounds
v Severe leg cramps waking me through the night. My legs curled and bent looked much like that of a handicapped child
v Arms from elbow to wrist turning black from lack of nourishment
v Size 10 – children’s
v Facial hair
v Brutal and repulsive thoughts that I could not turn off - Ever
v Psychiatric treatment that had me convinced the psychiatrist needed psychiatric help
v College study on the affect and treatment of Anorexia. Could you imagine watching an 88 pound woman lecturing on the dangers of Anorexia? A 30 page report no less
v 3:00am work outs followed by crawling back into bed to wake the husband up at 4:00am as though the alarm just went off
v Arguments, tears, and lies ~ lots of lies
v Unsuccessful interventions

How in the hell did I ever get to that place? I was a well adjusted teenager, right? So then how does one fall into the hands of this hideous disease? I don’t have the answer to that question. But I have a few theories. Did you know there is a connection between sexual abuse and developing an eating disorder? The connection is guilt, shame, self-punishment, soothing, comfort, protection and rage. Those words flood my mind, suffocate my soul and make me seethe with anger all at the same time. Years ago the school nurse where I work mentioned the correlation to me and it pissed me off. Honestly, I am still pissed off. Just recently I read an article which recited 40- 60% of people with an eating disorder have been molested and/or sexually assaulted in some way. Another article recited up to 80%. I am not sure if this information is accurate but it still makes me want to throw up. It does make some sense to me that the eating disorder is used like a tool to change the body image and therefore provides a defense against future abuses. However, such an explanation, tends to over simplify the disease. I’m quite certain that there is no one cause for a young lady to throw herself into the evils of Anorexia. I do know that once thrown in, the reality of making it out is incredibly bleak. As I look back, there was no rope long enough for me to grab to pull myself out and believe me everyone I knew was throwing a rope my way. The dictionary does not include a word that accurately expresses the guilt I feel for the suffering and absolute anguish I put my family and friends through during that dark period of my life. I despised every single moment of it. But even the guilt was not powerful enough to allow me to overcome such an ugly disease.

I am here today – and I am not anorexia free. Just as an alcoholic should never proclaim he is no longer an alcoholic, the survivor of an eating disorder should never be so bold as to proclaim themselves disease free. I can proclaim, however, that I am no longer abusing my mind or my body. I will never, ever diet again. My willpower is too killer. I now work out to strengthen, love, and show appreciation for my body~ not to admonish it. Today, my mind and my heart have been healed in some pretty fractured places, but the journey is not over.