I have often said throughout my recovery, “Give me any other problem with a substance,” for example, cigarettes. In truth, your body does not need nicotine to remain alive but it does require food, so you must learn how to deal with it. The reality is food serves a variety of purposes beyond nutrition. In food, people find comfort. They use it as a reward. It’s a hobby for others, a recreation. But also to many, food is an enemy.
The trick is appreciating it for what it is...fuel. I have said to students, “Think of it like gas in a car: too little it won’t move; too much it overflows.” For all of us it means finding a happy medium. For an eating disorder sufferer this happy medium often seems elusive, but it is possible.
The innocence of the child. Meredith around 2 years old.
The innocence taken away. 10 years old... abuse beginning.
Increase in weight, using food as a comfort.
The Past Continues.....
While the abuse triggered the development of an eating disorder, emotional issues also escalated the problem.
In grade 9 I attended a private school with very bizarre practices which continued to complicate my problem. Before I stepped in the door of this establishment I had low self esteem. Having been abused, I was emotional and vulnerable. Unfortunately, while not planned, the school became yet another reinforcement of low self esteem.
Three episodes in particular were notable. The first was during a Bible class with all the female boarders. The headmaster’s wife read a scripture dealing with men and women, with the message that any intimacy prior to marriage was a sin. I thought, “Not only do I feel odd to begin with having been touched and treated inappropriately by a neighbour, but now in the eyes of God I am considered a sinner too.”
The reinforcements continued. During a communion service I fell asleep and one of the girls said she wanted to talk to me with the “ladies” after chapel. I remember three staff members and this girl saying they felt a bad spirit from me in church and that I needed to ask the lord to show me where I was wrong. Everything was always my fault. I wasn’t even allowed to be tired. The influence and the mind bending tricks by the ladies continued. I recall being awakened by one of the “ladies” (this is the phrase given to the female staff) very late in the evening (I had been asleep for some time). I was brought into a room where all the female staff were waiting. I remember thinking how it was extremely odd that one was ironing while the remainder of them sat in a circle on chairs. What was going on? I soon found out.
I was put in the middle of this circle. One by one they insulted me, said I had a bad spirit, and that I was a rotten apple spoiling the barrel. They asked if I knew what my problem was? I answered no. They went on to discuss their theory... my problem was that my father loved my brother, and he didn’t love me.
What kind of sick people do this? I certainly did not think God-fearing Christians did. Over the years I have learned not to equate all Christians with this group and thankfully redeveloped my faith. The sad thing about this incident is that I believed them for many years thereafter. It was another thought that was wrongly enforced on me that continued to grow. I was only 14 years old. I was feeling so confused and cornered by these adults. I felt as though I had little or no control over anything, including my feelings.
I decided to go on a hunger strike, eating nothing, and I lost 20lbs in a little over two weeks. I was driving the staff nuts and it became a tool for getting me out of the school as a boarder. I was being heard; I had power; I had control.
Things seemed to settle down for a while when I returned to the local high school with familiar friends and a happy environment, but deep down I still felt sad and overwhelmed by the feelings I had inside. I had particular difficulty with relationships, especially in terms of intimacy. I began to overeat, initially to comfort myself, and ballooned to 178lbs (the first of many unhealthy weights). I didn’t feel any better at this weight and I was out of control: not only was my weight out of control, but also my life. I asked myself if I had ever felt in control. If only for a brief moment I did remember sensing control when I lost weight. It began again. But this time it was different.
I began with losing a few pounds, looking and feeling better and trying any diet that would hasten results. Positive comments began, and I felt good, but food was always around and I began a love/hate relationship with it. On the one hand, I had used it for comfort to the point of excess and on the other, it became an enemy. As I continued to lose weight and the number on the weigh scale continued to decline, it became a game, and an aspect of control I had never sensed before. With all the things that had happened and the feelings I had hidden inside, the need for control became intense.
I think it is important to note that this need for control and the loss of weight were happening at a time when I still had not told anyone about my childhood experiences. Also, the loss of weight and this element of total control were becoming euphoric. I thought about nothing other than the scale and losing more and more weight. It didn't matter what happened in my life. All the things that I couldn’t control became comforted by what I could...my weight.
While at university my disordered eating became serious towards the end of my time there. The need to succeed, finishing something, became another pressure. To do well wasn’t good enough. The already obsessive thoughts of having to be perfect, everything right, were full steam ahead. The weight continued to drop and if I had to eat anything that was not planned I went into a rage. My first attempt at suicide took place during this time. I had never been that sick and it had surprisingly gratifying results...I had lost 10 more pounds. But while the weight continued to fall off, my self loathing continued and increased. I was beginning a life of self torture.
I completed university which was a huge accomplishment for me. Then, within a year, I was on my way to Tucson, Arizona to perform with the entertainment group Up with People. This group continued to reinforce the body image that was becoming ingrained in my mind. Since a high priority was put on looks, presentation and the entertainment value, it became yet again an issue that could not be avoided. I remember girls being pulled from lead roles because they were too heavy. They were devastated and it just made me want to continue keeping control. It became another reason to keep on doing what I was doing. I was down to eating only an apple a day.
The control became insane. I don’t know when I crossed the line. All I know is that journals were no longer chronicles of life but rather pages and pages of weight entries, calorie intake, exercise, calories burned, days planned around how I would avoid situations with food, and if I had to eat, how I would get rid of it.
I have read through years and years of these journal entries. Moments of euphoria were noted if I had lost weight and hours of anxiety if I had not. I look back on those entries and acknowledge that there were no feelings, no thoughts, no emotions...just numbers and more numbers.
As we toured, while staying with host families I would immediately go to the bathroom to find a scale. In Europe, I had to convert kilograms to pounds, so a calculator was in order. But what was happening, even though I couldn’t see it at the time, was that my low body weight resulted in poor judgement and irrational thoughts. I was becoming very depressed. During Christmas break, my boyfriend of seven years broke up with me at 12:50 on New Year’s Eve. My depression reached a critical level. I returned to Up with People in the US in January. During a stay in Hattiesburg Mississippi, I took every pill in my host family’s medicine cabinet in my second attempt to kill myself. I was very ill, but death escaped me again.
Lisa, a dear friend in the cast became my rock. We were in New Orleans for a