Nice to Meet You

Yesterday a happy surprise came in the mail: five copies of the magazine I was recently published in. Once the article is online I will post a link for all to see. In the meantime I thought I'd share a different article that was published this past summer, in order to introduce myself to people who choose to visit this blog, and the corresponding facebook page. This is a short reflection on my struggles with eating disorders, one of the themes that runs throughout my upcoming book Stories From Rehab. Hope you enjoy it!

Weighting for Perfection

I don’t remember how I felt when the twin towers fell, nor do I recall any specifics of my senior prom or college graduation. I can tell you exactly what I weighed on each of these occasions, and on any other significant date from the past 15 years of my life. Freshman year homecoming – I weighed a glorious 110 lbs. High school graduation day – that’s when I weighed 125. The first day of eighth grade was a particularly fatty time, when I weighed in at 145, but not as bad as soccer season junior year of high school when I tipped the scales at 170. I weighed 90 lbs. the first time a boy kissed me, and I weighed 117.5 the only time a boy hit me. My body, or the lack of it, defined my existence. It was my armor against the world.

Our memories should be dominated by touches of lovers, smiles and tears shared with friends, and warm embraces from family. These details should not fade into the background, outshined by a meaningless number. Meaningless. Yes, I the girl who has dealt with anorexia, bulimia, and compulsive overeating for most of her life, am saying weight is meaningless. My ability to say this, and mean it, is why I am finally getting better.

My story is not a fairy tale, and that is why it is important to tell. I loathe saccharine sweet accounts of eating disorders, complete with neat and tidy, picture-perfect endings. They discourage me. What is wrong with me; why haven’t I beaten this beast? It took me quite some time to realize that nothing is wrong with me. Overcoming an eating disorder isn’t easy; most women who suffer from them will continue to deal with them in some way for the rest of their lives. This is not to say recovery is hopeless, but quite the opposite. Even if you have struggled with an eating disorder for years, it is still possible to make peace with it and lead a fulfilling life. If you are determined and relentless, you can reclaim your life from an eating disorder. The eating disorder will no longer be your identity; it will be a side-note on your journey.

***

At the age of thirteen, I was trying to come to terms with the excess flesh on my five-foot-three build while navigating the feelings that came with my first intense crush on a boy. One day, said boy called me heavy, and quickly followed this up with asking the skinniest girl in our class to go steady. Something in my mind snapped, and my quest for perfection began. Through a diet consisting of diet coke, rice cakes, and bananas I dropped over a third of my body weight in 3 months. It worked; I got the boy. I also got a hospital stay when the doctor informed my mother that my pulse was 30 beats per minute and irregular. My body was shutting down and I could die at any moment. I went to the hospital and gained the required weight, but I did not even begin to address the inadequacy I had felt which led to my decline. When I was released, I was counting calories by the time I made it to the hospital lobby.

The following year I landed in the hospital again, after progressing into bulimia. I gave up after that hospital stay, and began bingeing without purging. I just ate, and ate, and ate, flipping my middle finger to all of the pressure to be thin. What did I care about being pretty and boys liking me? They always broke my heart anyway. I gained 60 lbs., and convinced myself I was okay with it. Then I developed a crush on a boy, realized what I had done, and purged myself back down to an acceptable size.

After high school I managed to maintain a somewhat stable weight. Sometimes I starved, sometimes I binged, sometimes I purged, and sometimes I ate like a normal person. My disorder flared up during times of great stress, and subsided when I felt fulfilled personally and academically. I kept this up until I turned 25. Then I reclaimed my life.

***

I had attempted recovery many times before, and it never worked long term. It took me a long time to realize why. I was concentrating on food and weight, when really that’s what I needed to let go of. It’s the underlying issues that make an eating disorder, not the other stuff. That’s what we use to distract ourselves.

When I had tried recovery before, there were always conditions attached. I was willing to do whatever it took to recover . . . as long as I didn’t gain any more than five pounds, as long as I could still eat chocolate every day without gaining weight, as long as everything else in my life was going well. I was willing to do anything necessary to recover as long as I was guaranteed I’d come out truly happy on the other end. Recovery has no guarantees, and it can’t happen in an environment of conditions. It took me 12 years of dealing with this disorder to realize that my life is worth more than any damned ‘as long as’ I could dream up, and that I was worth taking a chance on. As long as I kept my focus on my arbitrary recovery conditions, I would never face the real issues.

            These 12 years were not a waste, and I am proud of them. I was battling one of the most brutal beasts there are, and I never gave up. Living with an eating disorder is not easy. If you are strong enough to live with it, you are strong enough to live without it. I thrived academically and socially, and built amazing memories, even with the beast on my back. It was exciting to imagine what I could achieve without it. Everybody has something from their past which colors their present, everybody has suffered; that is what makes us human. Our ability to rise above these challenges is what makes us extraordinary.

For years I thought I would get all better, and then go on to help others with the same issue. I was partially correct.  I did come to terms with this illness and learned how to live with it. I have tamed it enough to help others with the same issue, or at least a similar issue. I work in a drug rehab center with addicts. I use my firsthand knowledge of the power a substance can have over a person to make a contribution, albeit small, to the world.

***

Life is worth more than any condition you can put on it. Realize this and fight. Don’t get discouraged if recovery doesn’t work right away. Remember, this isn’t a fairy tale. It has been three years since recovery really ‘clicked’ for me, and I still falter. I wish I could say say I haven’t restricted caloric intake, binged, or purged in years, but I can’t.  I can say that since deciding my life was worth more than being a perfect size 4, my eating disorder episodes have decreased exponentially.

I still count calories sometimes, and I still get a little anxious if my pants feel tight, but I don’t let that rule my life anymore. Instead of calling into work and locking myself in my apartment when I’m having a fat day; I keep my head held high, focus on what truly matters to me, and forget about it (for the most part) within an hour.  I am heavier than what I would consider ideal, but I have come to terms with my size, and am learning to embrace my belly and thighs. I deserve a life that is about more than food and weight, we all do. I look forward to remembering my wedding day not by how much I weigh, but by how I feel when I look into my future husband’s eyes.