Ok, just a warning- I sometimes have a dark, self-deprecating sense of humor. This is not to minimalize anyone else’s experience, or treat these serious disorders as some kind joke.
Coping mechanisms and such.
Anyways, a little bit about me growing up:
My Father has a supernaturally fast metabolism, allowing him to eat whatever he desires and hold his wiry frame. Unfortunately, my Mother and I are not so genetically gifted in this sense (My early diagnosis with asthma and all the respiratory meds that entailed did not help me). My mom has four sisters, and growing up, it felt as though they were all perpetually dieting. When one plan didn’t work, they would find something new- always with the greatest enthusiasm- that THIS was the answer to their unhappiness with their bodies. As a child- this is how we learn behavior- and this was how I started learning that my body was not “ideal.”
Despite my asthma, I grew up playing all kinds of sports- and I even was okay at some! (check out my 3rd grade basketball home videos- I was, objectively, not terrible). When I was 10- I started playing football on the city team- and because of my build- I was stamped with the label of “lineman”. This would follow me into high school through most of my 8 years playing the game- despite changes in my body putting me at a severe disadvantage against other teens twice my size.
I was 12 the first time I made myself vomit. I don’t remember any specific details- it wasn’t that big of a deal at the time- I had just eaten something and I felt guilty because it was a “bad” food- and I felt so bad about it that I wanted it out of my body. I had already developed an unhealthy body image and that led to an unhealthy relationship with food in general. Being a heavier kid growing up, I was so ingrained with the notion that I should be smaller- that when other boys started working out, trying to make themselves bigger, it confused me at first. “Like ok- you WANT to take up more space though? Why?”
This is one of those traditionally masculine things that flew right over my head at the time.
Realizing that I had an eating disorder took years. I just ate and made myself vomit sometimes- like if I ate a “bad” food, or allowed myself to eat enough to feel “full”, or if I ate a food, felt satiated, and then thought- “you know, MAYBE I was never even hungry to begin with- might as well get rid of these extra calories” This led to, at the most severe points, not eating at all for periods, and purging when I did. Eventually, it wasn’t even really about the food anymore- making myself throw up was a release, both physically and emotionally. It was not until I was 20 and started spending time with someone who was also dealing with this disorder that I acknowledged I had a problem.
Not that I did it willingly- no. It was sometime in the evening and we were hanging out and she just kind of blurted out, “Neil, are you bulimic?” My initial reaction was a totally unconvincing, “uh NOoOoO!”…like how can she even just assume based on my habitual bathroom breaks within 5 minutes of eating anything that I had some kind of problem- plus boys don’t have eating disorders-duh! (Obviously I knew this wasn’t true- but in my mind, as far as her and the rest of the world knew, they didn’t.) She pushed further and though I am known for my ironclad resolve (I’m not) I totally broke down into tears about how yes, I was. I was ashamed of my body, which made me ashamed of eating, and now I was ashamed of being emasculated, not only for crying, but for the admission of suffering from what is widely considered a “feminine” disorder.
Saying the words out loud did not cure me. In fact, things got worse (for years) before they got better. Though I had acknowledged the fact that I had an eating disorder, that didn’t change my behavior or my desire to continue said behaviors. It was a long road to recovering, and that is something I will try to summary in part two of this introduction, but for now, know this:
If you have dealt with an ED- you are not alone.
If you have struggled with body image- you are not alone.
These disorders know no gender, ethnicity, sexual-orientation, age, or size.
You are not lesser because of an eating disorder.
You are not lesser because of your size.
You are strong enough to overcome.
vaporwave
2087
theartofmadeline