I would like to start this off by prefacing that this blog entry will be discussing eating disorders. If this is something that could potentially trigger any readers, I advise that you proceed with caution. February 26th – March 3rd is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, and for the first time ever I would like to speak up and share my story.
From a very young age, I became aware of my body and how other perceived me. It started in elementary school with mean boys. I was taunted with words like “anorexic” or “skeleton” and the classic saying of “eat a burger or something”. At the time I was too young and naive to let those words bother me. I was a happy little girl and had a healthy relationship with food, so why should I let some stupid boys make me upset. However, as time went on it wasn’t only the stupid boys I had to deal with at school it was adults too.
I grew up doing competitive Irish dancing. An odd sport to some, but to me it was my entire life. Turns out, I was pretty good too. From the age of ten I was encouraged by my mom and instructors to start watching what I eat to make sure I was in the best shape for training and competitions, this was their innocent way of putting me on a diet. This meant no cupcakes at birthday parties, no fast foods or processed foods and no snacks in between meals. Every month I would get measurements taken of my whole body and weighed to make sure I fit into my competition dress. If not, more additions would be made to my “diet” to make up for this. My teachers would constantly comment on my appearance and how “I was so tiny and looked so good”. At competitions, judges would comment on my petite frame in such a positive light. I was trained from a young age that this was good and I was supposed to look like this. Dieting and restricting myself from foods I enjoyed was just a part of the process to look appealing in the eye of others. Im not saying I completely blame this on dance, I blame it on the people in my life who led me to believe that this was normal and healthy from just ten years old.
Flash forward to March of 2020, Covid times. Dance had stopped due to social distancing and the sport I once loved slowly excited my life. I remember feeling scared. I was worried that since I wouldn’t be training and working out multiple times a week, I would gain weight and this was not an option for me. Gaining weight had always been something that was forbidden and it was engraved in my brain that if I let this happen I would become unappealing and unattractive. Because the world had shut down, I found myself with more free time than I had ever had. I started to spend a lot of time on social media particularly stalking instagram models and girls on Tik Tok who I considered to be perfect. These were the girls with the long skinny legs and flat stomachs who looked like they hadn’t eaten a meal in days. I wanted to look like that. I wanted to be them. So I started to play a game with myself, how long could I go without eating. This was easy for me during Covid because the only people I had to hide it from was my family. I started taking my meals to my room instead of eating at the table so I could flush food down the toilet or throw it out of my second story window. I was sleeping for a majority of the day because I had no energy and when I wasn’t sleeping, I was following YouTube at home workouts to get the “perfect body”. During covid, I hit my low. 97 pounds and I had never been more proud of myself. Even though I barely had enough energy to walk up the stairs, I didn’t care. This is what I wanted wasn’t it?
As Covid started to slow down and the world started to open up again, I became happier. I could hang out with my friends, I was spending more time outside and for this period of time it felt like I was getting my life back. It was nearing the end of my senior year and all the excitement of prom and graduation blinded me from my eating struggles. I had just gotten my first serious boyfriend and was spending every day between him and my friends. So for the sake of not wanting any of them to notice my issue, I decided I would try to be better at eating. For anyone who has ever experienced an eating disorder, you know that sometimes it can come and go in waves. Without professional help or an eye opening experience it will never truly just go away. I tried to hide from the reality of it but it became something too big for me to really escape. Before I knew it I was off to college and things were about to take a turn for the worst.
Freshman year of college started off well until I got broken up with. I was very depressed and had no energy to even get out of bed, let alone eat. I continued to find myself re entering a toxic relationship with someone who I am no longer with, but at the time this took serious toll on my mental and emotional health. Months went on and my friends started to notice there was something wrong but I became very good at hiding my struggles. I was constantly tracking my weight, taking pictures of my body and limiting myself when it came to food because it was the only thing in my life that I could fully control. Sophomore year I lived in my sorority house and this task became much harder. I was always encouraged to go and eat with my friends, something I led myself to believe was bad, and limiting how much I ate became harder and harder. In October of my sophomore year, on a Tuesday night in the bathroom of D-hall, I forced myself to throw up a meal for the first time. It was painful and I hated it. But after, as I looked in the mirror with tears filling my eyes, I lifted my shirt up to see my stomach no longer bloated just empty. From that day on I decided I was going to chase that feeling. I wanted to be completely empty. The first few times I did it were hard but I didn’t care. It got easier and it got to the point where I was addicted to the feeling. What a crazy thing to even say. I was addicted to throwing up and I hated myself for it. I would wait until my roommate would go and shower or make up excuses to leave the room after every meal so I could hide alone in the one stalled bathroom and force up every last piece of food until my face was green and I had tears pouring out of my eyes. After I would stand in the mirror, look at my reflection and list everything I hated about who I was. My arms, my chin, my stomach. I would tell myself these awful things until there was a knock on the door or I felt I had been gone for too long and my actions were noticeable. Then, after my roommate would fall asleep, I would cry. I would cry and cry and cry so hard into my pillow I couldn’t breathe. And I would look up pictures of girls and compare myself to them and cry some more. This cycle went on for months until I was saved by my best friends. And I mean truly saved.
I was foolish to think I could continue like this forever without anyone noticing. The pattern became obvious by everyone around me and everyone who cared about me. It wasn’t until my best friend confronted me. She admitted that she knew and she was worried for me. She knew the dangers that I willingly overlooked to achieve “perfection” and she offered me love and help. She encouraged me to call my mom and tell her what had been going on and promised me that once I did she would be by my side with every step on the road to recovery. I’ll never forget the day I called my mom to admit to her that I was bulimic. I could never say those words out loud before and as I did I was overwhelmed with emotions and began to sob. She cried too. She cried for me and cried that she didn’t realize sooner. I explained to her everything and we both just cried. I will never be able to forget the sense of relief I felt that day. Like a weight I had been carrying for years was taken off my shoulders. If it weren’t for the love and support of my best friend, I can’t confidently say that I would be here sharing my story today. And if she reads this I hope she knows how eternally grateful I am for her and the hope that she gave me to trust there was a life beyond my eating disorder.
Since that day I am a changed person. I have a therapist who educated me on the dangers of bulimia and helped me work through my struggles with food and self image. I started to educate myself on nutrition and exercise and healthy ways to gain and lose weight. Eating disorder recovery is something I am passionate about and I hope that sharing my personal story and experience will encourage others to speak up and seek help. As cliche as it sounds, you are not alone. No matter who you are, there are people who care about you and resources to help you get better. It took me some time to be comfortable in sharing this, but I now know that it is not something to be ashamed about, but something that has shaped me into who I am now. I am stronger than I ever believed I was and will live every day reminding myself of this. Sure I still have hard days and days where I wish I could relapse back into my old habits, but on those days I remind myself of how lucky I am to have this second chance at a new and healthy life and that isn’t something I would trade for the world. If you or anyone you know is struggling take advantage of the multiple resources on campus and online, the number for The National Association of Anorexia Nervosa & Associated Disorders (ANAD) is 888-375-7767. Take some time this week to educate yourself on eating disorders and the many forms they come in and remember, you have the power to save someones life just by reaching out.
xoxo, RadioRebel2391
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