What Anorexia is Really Like
It’s the
little rules that take over your life, like no snacks with a 3-digit calorie number
(that includes you, bananas), no more than one meal a day, no bread, no food
after 6pm and on a lot of days simply ‘no food’.
It’s being
hyper-aware of how food is everywhere.
You wake up and you have to face breakfast, go to school or work and soon
enough there’s a tea break, then lunch then you come home and in no time it’s
dinnertime. Advertisements for fast food and diet plans online, on TV, on
billboards and posters. It’s like being surrounded by the very thing that
scares you the most and you cannot get a break.
You turn on
the TV and there’s a food advertisement. You go for a walk and there’s a
slimming world poster. You talk to your friends and they talk about their insecurities
with their own weight. Someone compliments you for losing weight. Someone asks
how you did it. Someone asks if you want a biscuit.
These aren’t
necessarily bad things and to someone who doesn’t have an eating disorder this
may be annoying at most. But when food is so interlinked with how much you hate
yourself and how much you want to destroy yourself it becomes more than an
inconvenience. And it makes recovery even more difficult than it already is.
It’s
thinking about food and weight-loss all of the time. Everything comes secondary
to weight-loss. Friends, family, school, health. And you feel unbelievably guilty for this, but you can’t help it.
It’s being
turned into this completely illogical person who googles ‘how many calories are
in a paracetamol tablet’ but knowing that you’re being illogical doesn’t help.
It’s feeling
like a complete failure because your stomach doesn’t hurt with hunger.
It is pure
exhaustion. You don’t eat so you have no energy. Your mind is racing with calorie
calculations, body measurements and comparisons. You are physically and
mentally drained. But you like it in a way because that means you are doing
something ‘right’.
According to
your illness weakness is a sign of strength.
It’s fainting
and headaches and red knuckles and bald patches and damaged organs.
It’s fear. The
fear of gaining weight. The fear of not losing weight. The fear of losing
weight and it not making a difference to how you feel.
It’s hating
everyone.
“How come they are so skinny, it’s not fair.”
“How come they can eat without thinking about it and I can’t?”
“Why are they offering me food, do they want me to be fat?”
“How come they are so skinny, it’s not fair.”
“How come they can eat without thinking about it and I can’t?”
“Why are they offering me food, do they want me to be fat?”
And whilst you’re
not eating, all of that hate eats at you.
It’s not
having a social life because food is such a social thing.
Want to go to
the cinema? Popcorn, nachos, fizzy drinks, no thanks.
Want to come over to my house? I would have to eat in front
of them, they may even want takeout, sorry I’m busy.
Want to go for dinner? Hell-to-the-no!
So, you’re left alone with your thoughts. Thinking about food
and fat and how much you hate yourself and it must be true because you have no
friends. Even though you are the one who is isolating yourself.
“I’ll have friends when I lose another stone”.
“I’ll go out once I lose the weight”.
“It’ll all be fine once I’m skinny. Then I can start living.”
But when you lose a stone all you want is to lose another. When
you lose weight it’s never enough. When you’re ‘skinny’ you don’t see it. I have
been my goal weight. I have been underweight. I am telling you now that I was
no happier then.
Losing weight will not help you find happiness.
I know saying ‘It gets better’ is the most painfully annoying
thing to hear when you are struggling with a mental illness, so I won’t say it.
But I will say that as I’m writing this I am eating a Kitkat at 8pm. I’m not ‘cured’,
it doesn’t work like that. But I am doing so much better.
I think I will always consider the calories of something before
I eat it – but the calories don’t control me anymore.
I think I will always get a little nervous when eating in front
of someone – but I will do it.
I may relapse, but I will get back up again because now I
know that I can, and I know how much better it feels to be free of anorexia,
even though the fight to freedom is long and hard and terrifying. But it is
possible.
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I'm glad to hear you sat eating a kit-kat whilst writing this. I suffered as a teen and whilst I still have the odd obtrusive thought, 95% of the time those thoughts are quieter but I do remember thinking and feeling everything you have written here. My Mr was a huge help with my recovery, he got me to eat by sitting with his back to me, ignoring me whilst we had food so I felt less conscious. Eventually eating a subway on his bed watching him play pc games became normal to me. I Still struggle with eating in public but occasionally I do and cope ok. I hope you stay on the road to recovery and continue to do well :)
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