Flirting with Ana: a post for National Eating Disorders Awareness Week
Most people, upon hearing "eating disorders," think of anorexia and bulimia or some combination of the two. Look at me, and you would never imagine I've had issues with anything like an eating disorder. My only problem with eating is eating too much and/or eating unhealthy.
But... that IS an eating disorder. Binging and disordered eating also fall under the purview of eating disorders. If I had to name it, I'd say that for the last two and a half years or so I've been dealing with disordered eating. Basically, I obsess over food.
When am I going to eat? How much? With whom? Where? Do I eat this or that? How much time will I have? What if no one will go with me? Delivery, pick-up, or eat there? How long has it been since I last ate?
Note: I've never purposely thrown up. I have, however, eaten so much or eaten something in particular that made me feel guilty or disgusting afterwards. (I've never counted calories, either.)
I barter with myself. "Well, I didn't eat breakfast, so it's okay to have a cookie with lunch." "I'll get a burger instead of a chicken sandwich, but I'll have a salad." "It's the weekend; I'll treat myself." "If I eat this whole thing of ice cream tonight, I have to drink more juice, too."
A lot of the time, it doesn't make sense. And a lot of the time, money is involved. I think about what's cheaper or what's the better value. I weigh my options not just by the food itself but by the cost compared to what I've spent money on so far that day or that week or that month.
This all really started freshmen year. I lost a lot of weight as a freshmen, most of it fall semester. That was because I basically stopped eating. Almost. I would eat maybe the equivalent of one or one and a half meals a day. (What does that even mean, Kelsey?) No breakfast or maybe just a Pop-Tart. Some sort of snack or small lunch - Cheez-Its maybe, or a chicken sandwich with apple juice. For dinner, usually a 7" pizza, but sometimes just a bag of popcorn or another Pop-Tart.
And - here's the thing about eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia. THEY WORK. Yes, they're about lack of self confidence and trying to gain control over one's life through controlling one's food intake and having a warped view of one's appearance.... but, let's be real here. If anorexia and bulimia didn't make you lose weight, so many women and girls probably wouldn't do it.
I mean, really. If you drastically reduce the amount of food you eat or throw up everything or take lots of laxatives - well, you're going to lose weight. And you can know all the dangers and problems associated with not eating enough, but if you - like me - see positive results of any kind, it all seems worth it. I was looking better, getting compliments, saving money - who cared if sometimes my stomach growled really loudly? What did it matter if sometimes I got dizzy and lightheaded when I stood up, or that I was so hungry I felt sick most mornings, or that I was sick all the time? Wasn't it worth it if I lost weight?
And I did. It started out healthy enough. Switching to skim milk and light ranch dressing, eating more salads, wheat bread, etc. Walking around a lot more on campus helped, too. I was also nervous about eating in public by myself. I was severely lacking in self-confidence. I wanted to be independent. Any dependence on anyone was a bad thing, so I never asked anyone to get food with me. Other girls on my floor might ask me, and then I usually said yes.
The fact that I was losing weight was AWESOME. Everyone talks about the freshmen fifteen - I lost over fifteen pounds in just a few months that fall. (My total weight loss from June 2007 through May 2008 was around 35 pounds.) I almost tripped down the stairs in Van Hise once because my pants were so loose and long. I remember wearing long underwear, my shirt tucked in, and a belt, and my pants still being too big. I remember buying a belt while on break at work because my pants were so loose they were falling down with the walkie in my pocket. I remember being complimented.
Me. Being complimented on my appearance. Wow! For real - that never happens. I remember visiting Mr. Powers in December with Jessie and Christine. He commented on my weight loss. I was pleased. I remember people in my family and in Portage commenting positively. It was really nice.
You know, no one said anything about me being pretty, cute, beautiful, or sexy. It was just "you look good - you've lost weight - you're wasting away - " etc. But that was great to hear.
It just spurred me on. I wasn't anorexic, but I feel like I often came close. And I rather enjoyed being able to not eat for so long. Sometimes I would realize it had been nearly ten or twelve hours since I'd last eaten. I was proud of that. Pride also kept me from asking my parents for money, so I had to cut back on how much I ate, or at least that was how my warped logic went. That fall I was sick a lot, and I didn't have much energy. I tried to donate blood once fall semester. My iron was too low. One night in late November, I finally hit a wall: I was sick, tired, hungry. I needed food. I needed medicine. I went to Walgreen's and bought tissues, DayQuil, and Ramen. I chose Ramen because it's cheap and it's really more water than anything.
Over winter break my parents told me multiple times to let them know if I needed money for food. I felt a bit stupid for practically/actually starving myself because I couldn't bear asking my parents for help. I continued to lose weight that spring - more slowly and in a slightly more healthy manner. I ate more. I became more confident in eating by myself in public - although always with a book or my laptop. I started taking walks again. It was great.
Over the summer, through sophomore year, and last summer, things were better. I ate more. I spent more money on food. I gained a bit of weight - and a shit ton of it went to my boobs, holy crap. But overall I was feeling much better about myself. I chalk that up to finally coming out, making real friends at Madison, having an awesome roommate, and getting involved in queer things.
But... even though I'm eating more, I'm still obsessing over food. For House Fellow training, we had to learn about various mental health issues, including eating disorders. I remember looking over the signs of eating problems or disorders. Eleven of them applied to me. They still do.
So, what's the point of me writing all this? Well, first it's good to get it off my chest. Second, it seemed appropriate, as this is my personal journal and it is National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. Third... I don't know. I guess I just wish more people understood that, regardless of my general behavior and what I often say and do, I'm not all that confident. I'm not nearly that together.
I do not want pity. I detest pity. Pity implies inferiority. I do not want advice, either. I assure you, whatever advice you may have to give, I've heard it before. Clearly it hasn't done any good. Do not pity me. Do not give me advice. You will only make me angry.
I guess what I'm really saying is, watch yourself. Watch your words. You can't know by looking whether or not someone is dealing with body image or food-related issues or suffering from an eating disorder. So let's help each other out. Stop talking about how much weight you've gained or lost. Stop obsessing over food, over calories, over your weight or lack thereof. Pay attention to people's reactions, too. It's awkward saying, "Hey, I'm dealing with some serious image-related problems. Could you not talk about your diet/your exercise/your weight gain around me? Thanks." So be aware of people's discomfort.
And anyway. There are way more interesting things to talk about. Lost, anyone?
Peace and love,
~~RaggedyAnndy~~
http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/
http://www.edreferral.com/
http://www.remudaranch.com/
http://www.something-fishy.org/
But... that IS an eating disorder. Binging and disordered eating also fall under the purview of eating disorders. If I had to name it, I'd say that for the last two and a half years or so I've been dealing with disordered eating. Basically, I obsess over food.
When am I going to eat? How much? With whom? Where? Do I eat this or that? How much time will I have? What if no one will go with me? Delivery, pick-up, or eat there? How long has it been since I last ate?
Note: I've never purposely thrown up. I have, however, eaten so much or eaten something in particular that made me feel guilty or disgusting afterwards. (I've never counted calories, either.)
I barter with myself. "Well, I didn't eat breakfast, so it's okay to have a cookie with lunch." "I'll get a burger instead of a chicken sandwich, but I'll have a salad." "It's the weekend; I'll treat myself." "If I eat this whole thing of ice cream tonight, I have to drink more juice, too."
A lot of the time, it doesn't make sense. And a lot of the time, money is involved. I think about what's cheaper or what's the better value. I weigh my options not just by the food itself but by the cost compared to what I've spent money on so far that day or that week or that month.
This all really started freshmen year. I lost a lot of weight as a freshmen, most of it fall semester. That was because I basically stopped eating. Almost. I would eat maybe the equivalent of one or one and a half meals a day. (What does that even mean, Kelsey?) No breakfast or maybe just a Pop-Tart. Some sort of snack or small lunch - Cheez-Its maybe, or a chicken sandwich with apple juice. For dinner, usually a 7" pizza, but sometimes just a bag of popcorn or another Pop-Tart.
And - here's the thing about eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia. THEY WORK. Yes, they're about lack of self confidence and trying to gain control over one's life through controlling one's food intake and having a warped view of one's appearance.... but, let's be real here. If anorexia and bulimia didn't make you lose weight, so many women and girls probably wouldn't do it.
I mean, really. If you drastically reduce the amount of food you eat or throw up everything or take lots of laxatives - well, you're going to lose weight. And you can know all the dangers and problems associated with not eating enough, but if you - like me - see positive results of any kind, it all seems worth it. I was looking better, getting compliments, saving money - who cared if sometimes my stomach growled really loudly? What did it matter if sometimes I got dizzy and lightheaded when I stood up, or that I was so hungry I felt sick most mornings, or that I was sick all the time? Wasn't it worth it if I lost weight?
And I did. It started out healthy enough. Switching to skim milk and light ranch dressing, eating more salads, wheat bread, etc. Walking around a lot more on campus helped, too. I was also nervous about eating in public by myself. I was severely lacking in self-confidence. I wanted to be independent. Any dependence on anyone was a bad thing, so I never asked anyone to get food with me. Other girls on my floor might ask me, and then I usually said yes.
The fact that I was losing weight was AWESOME. Everyone talks about the freshmen fifteen - I lost over fifteen pounds in just a few months that fall. (My total weight loss from June 2007 through May 2008 was around 35 pounds.) I almost tripped down the stairs in Van Hise once because my pants were so loose and long. I remember wearing long underwear, my shirt tucked in, and a belt, and my pants still being too big. I remember buying a belt while on break at work because my pants were so loose they were falling down with the walkie in my pocket. I remember being complimented.
Me. Being complimented on my appearance. Wow! For real - that never happens. I remember visiting Mr. Powers in December with Jessie and Christine. He commented on my weight loss. I was pleased. I remember people in my family and in Portage commenting positively. It was really nice.
You know, no one said anything about me being pretty, cute, beautiful, or sexy. It was just "you look good - you've lost weight - you're wasting away - " etc. But that was great to hear.
It just spurred me on. I wasn't anorexic, but I feel like I often came close. And I rather enjoyed being able to not eat for so long. Sometimes I would realize it had been nearly ten or twelve hours since I'd last eaten. I was proud of that. Pride also kept me from asking my parents for money, so I had to cut back on how much I ate, or at least that was how my warped logic went. That fall I was sick a lot, and I didn't have much energy. I tried to donate blood once fall semester. My iron was too low. One night in late November, I finally hit a wall: I was sick, tired, hungry. I needed food. I needed medicine. I went to Walgreen's and bought tissues, DayQuil, and Ramen. I chose Ramen because it's cheap and it's really more water than anything.
Over winter break my parents told me multiple times to let them know if I needed money for food. I felt a bit stupid for practically/actually starving myself because I couldn't bear asking my parents for help. I continued to lose weight that spring - more slowly and in a slightly more healthy manner. I ate more. I became more confident in eating by myself in public - although always with a book or my laptop. I started taking walks again. It was great.
Over the summer, through sophomore year, and last summer, things were better. I ate more. I spent more money on food. I gained a bit of weight - and a shit ton of it went to my boobs, holy crap. But overall I was feeling much better about myself. I chalk that up to finally coming out, making real friends at Madison, having an awesome roommate, and getting involved in queer things.
But... even though I'm eating more, I'm still obsessing over food. For House Fellow training, we had to learn about various mental health issues, including eating disorders. I remember looking over the signs of eating problems or disorders. Eleven of them applied to me. They still do.
So, what's the point of me writing all this? Well, first it's good to get it off my chest. Second, it seemed appropriate, as this is my personal journal and it is National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. Third... I don't know. I guess I just wish more people understood that, regardless of my general behavior and what I often say and do, I'm not all that confident. I'm not nearly that together.
I do not want pity. I detest pity. Pity implies inferiority. I do not want advice, either. I assure you, whatever advice you may have to give, I've heard it before. Clearly it hasn't done any good. Do not pity me. Do not give me advice. You will only make me angry.
I guess what I'm really saying is, watch yourself. Watch your words. You can't know by looking whether or not someone is dealing with body image or food-related issues or suffering from an eating disorder. So let's help each other out. Stop talking about how much weight you've gained or lost. Stop obsessing over food, over calories, over your weight or lack thereof. Pay attention to people's reactions, too. It's awkward saying, "Hey, I'm dealing with some serious image-related problems. Could you not talk about your diet/your exercise/your weight gain around me? Thanks." So be aware of people's discomfort.
And anyway. There are way more interesting things to talk about. Lost, anyone?
Peace and love,
~~RaggedyAnndy~~
http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/
http://www.edreferral.com/
http://www.remudaranch.com/
http://www.something-fishy.org/