In hind sight I can’t believe I once thought things were ok as they were then, or perhaps more aptly, how desperately I worked + tried to convince myself they were. Those around me who loved me so deeply, knew things were going from bad to worse + quite frankly, were the furthest thing from ok. In desperate attempts to get me to see what was happening + to understand the dark veil my life was drowning in, they loved me harder + harder than I ever realised back then. Firstly, I want to start this by saying how damn amazing it is I have the ability to write this. I once couldn’t concentrate on anything! Thanks to those who love me I’m alive. I am SO alive now. It’s years later + I’ve worked my ass off (or back on in this case) to get my life on track. A life I really very nearly lost, several times.
Anorexia. Bulimia. Binge eating. Orthorexia. Whatever you do, there’s no escaping the fact that they’re basically all the same - a symptom of a much deeper issue + not the specific point of suffering that needs addressing. Whatever you do though, it’s an important thing to note, it’s NOT who you are. For years + years it completely defined me + my existence. Every thought, every action + every single second was consumed + determined by my eating disorder.
What I did was anorexia which later turned into bulimia. Two things I didn’t choose - nobody in their right mind would EVER choose such dark realities. The eating disorders that blurred so many years of my life were my way of, unknowingly, trying to control something - anything - in a world I understood to be dangerous + scary. Maybe one day I’ll elaborate on that but for now, I write this in the hope my experience + subsequent recovery - and this is my experience alone - might help someone directly or someone you may know who is currently in the depths of despair due to the terrors of when control around food goes too far. This is my love letter to the lost girl I was + to those in the same place. It’s all the things I wished I’d known, understood + actually took on board all those years ago when I wasn’t even aware of what was happening nor what lay ahead on the path of a life ruined by eating disorders. All the things nobody talks about publicly. All the shittiest things that WILL eventually happen, the things that no matter how ‘strong’ you think you are or how ‘in control’ you’re determined to be, will eventually come to be your existence.
Nobody talks about the deep + dirty reality of it, well not out loud anyway. When I say nobody, I mean those going through an eating disorder. Those inside the vortex of nothingness + the search for full control. It’s a deep secret that needs to be protected at all costs. Because if admitted to, then you will have to do something about it. And that thought terrified you the most. Nobody talks about the real reason you’re no longer joining the girls for brunch on a weekend or why, staying at your new boyfriends house is stressing you the fuck out because, damn it you can’t keep up the lie about having already had breakfast at home when you clearly woke up in the same house. Nobody talks about the amount of laxatives you have to take before going out to dinner with others cause you fear SO much the idea of having to maybe eat even a few bites in front of your friends or family. The insane level of these same laxatives you’re taking is also something nobody talks about - nor even knows about cause, like everything else around you eating disorder, it’s your deep, dark secret. Nobody talks about the reason you now have to travel far + wide to even get your hands on more laxatives cause, even though you’ve promised they’re not for you, all the local pharmacies know what’s going on. Nobody talks about it but everyone knows it.
Nobody talks about the amount of cardio you have to do in order to keep yourself in somewhat of a ‘good’ mood for the day.. hell nobody talks about how moody AF you’ve become, moody like a teenage girl whose hormones are quite literally all.over.place. On that note too, nobody talks about the truth of having lost your periods long long ago + how deeply you now have to convince yourself you never even dreamed of being a Mum one day anyway. Who cares. Well that’s what you’re trying to tell yourself anyway. Nobody talks about how your every waking thought is about your body. You know you’ve lost weight but no matter what the scales says, it’s never low enough. So you HAVE to keep going. Loose more. Move more. Eat less. Another day. No body talks about waking up to check the same bones that you could feel protruding from your body are still there today. You check. And check again.
Nobody talks about the way in which your food needs to be thought out. How prepping it + what you’re allowed becomes stricter + stricter. Entire food groups vanish from your eating abilities. So strict there’s becoming very little on the list of foods, permitted anymore. Nobody talks about the paranoia you have around people putting things in your water or on your food that might make you gain weight without your consent. It’s fucking mad, the whole thing but nobody talks about the moments where you want to scream for help yet can’t - cause again you fear SO much the idea of gaining weight that you’re willing to take more of the heat palpitations + blackouts from being so under weight than admit to any of this being real.
Nobody talks about the chewing gum + the mental amounts of sparkling water you’re drinking to keep the hunger at bay. So much sparkling water you’re at risk of a stroke. Hunger though? What’s that you want to say. But yes you are STARVING. S.T.A.R.V.I.N.G. You are beyond mentally + physically malnourished + no matter how much you know it or try to convince yourself you’re not, you cannot admit to being hungry. Cannot + will not. The word isn’t allowed. It’s a sin in your mind. And although you’re not religious in that sense, it’s a moral sin + it is the ultimate failure. Again another thing nobody talks about are these obsessional thoughts that will not stop.
Nobody talks about the madness that goes on in your head. Things like say, being terrified you’ll gain weight if someone lights a candle in your presence that has some sort of food in the title. Like a nice Pomegranate Noir candle (back when I thought that was shit).. yep, for real, nobody talks about how paranoid you become that being in this very room with the candle that says pomegranate in the title means you are inhaling calories because it’s a food? WHAT? It’s INSANE for me to look back on those kinds of things that, as nobody talks about, absolutely ruin every moment that others take as so normal + everyday. Everything, even as little as lighting a candle becomes a mental ordeal.
Something else nobody talks about really is, despite your most desperate pleas to those who love you to believe you you’re fine, what actually starts to happen in your body - things so obvious you can’t but notice. From blacking out + loosing your sight so many times a day due to your body having to work so hard just to function now that it can’t keep your blood pressure at a normal level - you no longer see it as weird or strange it now happens so often. Nobody talks about the layer of fluff your body has had to grow (yep girls, for real!) to keep itself warm. Your arms, chest, back. Fluffy. Yes you loose that as your body gets well again but nobody talks about getting hairier in the search for “skinny enough”. Nor does anybody talk about how thin + weird your own hair has become. It’s falling out in clumps + you have to make sure no one you love sees this as it’s just another reason for them to be right in how out of control things are getting. Nobody tells you either of the worry + sleepless nights your loved ones endure. Their time spent troubled by witnessing their daughter, sister, girlfriend, friend wasting away before their eyes. Nobody talks of the reality loved ones go through in the silenced screams + pleas to get through to you, only to be pushed away.
Nobody talks about how stressful it becomes to go to bed at night. You gain weight if you’re not moving + sleeping means not moving - as does being in bed. Or so you’re completely convinced. So no more sleep allowed. No way. Nobody talks about the nervous tension you have around being away from a bathroom for too long either. Your bladder is getting weak (again something you definitely have to keep secret as then the doctors / your family will have more evidence you need major help + your body is dangerously breaking down) + you can no longer hold your wee. No joke. You’re a 20-something year old who wets herself. Still though you aren’t convinced it’s that bad. Even the endless heart palpitations- nope, definitely not taking those as a sign your threading on thin ice.
Then comes the binge/purge cycle. And wow what fun that is. NOT. Nobody tells you that as you start to eat again + think that getting rid of the food is the only way to cope with that whole situation + that shit is about to get even worse! Nobody talks about the seriously low potassium levels from purging that you lay on the floor of the bathroom - coming to without a clue at first how long you’ve been out for. You feel dizzy, your arms are numb + you can’t move your legs. Shit, what’s happening to your body? Nobody talks about the lengths you will go to to find a bathroom in ANY situation, driving from your boyfriends after that tiny yoghurt at breakfast you had to eat informer of him to ward off the questions that are beginning to pop up.. off you go to a nearby garage (I mean how elegant right?) - like WTF!!! Getting sick in dingy bathrooms that you typically wouldn’t even allow yourself pee in in a normal situation -all this desperation now that you’ve become a complete slave to the bitch of bulimia. Nobody talks about the level of crazy amounts of food the binges have gotten to - it feels so urgent you would eat a gone-off sandwich from the bin your body craves food so much. Nobody talks about the secret eating that’s started to happen. Anything to fill yourself up (without allowing anyone see) + then throw it all back up. Nobody talks about the confusion you feel. Wanting to stop yet sticking your fingers down your throat again. Just one more time. You promise. And promise again. Thankfully it’s been about 3 years since I last got sick in a self-inflicted way + I just can’t imagine ever going back to that hell. You know it’s all a waste of a your time but yet you just can’t understand how you will ever eat again without getting rid of it - whatever the amount, large or small. Nobody talks about the days you wake to feel only you wish you were dead. It’s a mess. You really hate this eating disorder shit but you can’t let anyone in. It’s lonely as hell. Nobody talks about that either. How lonely + separated from the world you’ve become. Nobody talks about how swollen your face is from the vomiting or how your throat is SO sore the whole time, red raw from the acid that comes up with every retch. Nobody talks about any of it.
Shining a light on all the horrible things that I’ve found to be real is important to me now as I live free of 99% of it - the stuff nobody talks about in terms of the real shit that happens behind closed doors in the life of someone in the grips of an eating disorder. It’s NOT glamorous. It’s not Victoria Beckham chic. It’s HELL. Skinny isn’t a thing to be proud of or to identify yourself as. Skinny, when you are a slave to your own mind’s ability to trick you into thinking you need to be skinnier, is nothing but the time, a solid indication, to ask for help - or let in the help that’s been trying to get through to you for so long.
If you know someone who is, or you are that someone tormented by an eating disorder - even if you’re having doubts or your mind is trying to convince you you’re fine.. I want to tell you something; you can + will enjoy life again. ’Thin enough’ is BULLSHIT. It’s a mental trap you might think you’re in full control of but that is taking away your life. Every day spent protecting your eating disorder instead of believing in a better way to live, is another day wasted that, and in my own experience that could be yours to live + love. I’ve spent extended periods in hospitals, treatment centres + in therapists rooms tormented by anorexia + bulimia.. then, in my stubbornness to go back to hospital, Mum made me sleep in her bed for a year as she was so terrified I’d have a heart attack + she didn’t want me to die alone. Her love is something I will perhaps only understand upon, one day, hopefully becoming a Mum myself but forever in my mind she will be a superhero who saved me from myself I’m so many occasions. None of that is living. Neither are any of the things I mentioned above, all of which became my reality for years + none of which are thankfully any longer things I face on a daily basis . You can be free of them too if you find yourself in any of them. I have my period back + today I’m proud of that. Again, I once bizarrely believed that not having my period for 7 years was a positive thing. I believed that the day I got it back I would have to end my life as I wouldn’t be able to cope with being “fat”. Gosh I can’t believe how badly that was the grip ED once had on me I no longer hold my breath walking past the bakery in fear that the smell of bread might make me gain weight. LOL, oh my god, I actually believed that once too.
It takes time, a lot longer than you would wish I admit.. but a loss lot less if you just commit. Honestly too it takes a LOT of effort + hard work to get to a better place with your body + food + allowing yourself grow into a much better way of being but damn, being in this place, writing this piece today, I’m SO incredibly grateful I stuck it out + continue to put in the work. It’s never perfect but I would not go back there for anything!
I mentioned above that eating disorders aren’t the core of someone’s issues but the longer they are allowed continue + run wild, the more of a deadly grip you fall into. The eating disorder becomes the one in control. It once felt like your best friend. You thought you’d be BFF’s for life. But shit hits the fan + there’s no going back to it ever being a crutch to lean on. It could take you years to get to a better place, as it did me.. but time will pass anyway + would you rather be deeper in the dark or stepping, one tiny step at a time into the light?
I didn’t ever want to share things like this in the fear I would become defined as the person who had an eaten disorder but in my every day now, as I live my life + am happy doing + being me these days, I do not define myself as the girl with the ED.. + for me, that’s really all that matters now. I am not a doctor or any sort of professional + this one piece can never cover everything nor come close to really explaining how incredibly dark it is living with a life-threatening + debilitating eating disorder. it’s simply my first attempt ever to piece together parts of it that might make sense to you, or as I said, someone you may care for. It’s my way to try to enlighten or help in exposing my experience so I might reach another who needs it + I do not claim for one second to know what another’s experience may be. None of this is meant to be advice, it’s simply my experience + I share it in the dream that it might help someone - even just one person - to know that you do not walk this alone + that if I’ve been there, which I have been + I’m now HAPPY, living a fulfilled life, loving + living in all it’s imperfections, then you can too.
Love R x
