I remember calling my parents from a payphone in Mobile. I told my dad that I had to come home; if I didn’t now, I never would. He was great. He said that I was to book a ticket and he and Mom would pick me up in Syracuse, New York. I asked them not to ask questions when they picked me up. I vaguely remember the pick up. I felt numb. The disease had grabbed hold.
When I arrived home I saw a therapist, but because she was a family friend it was not the right fit. I then began seeing Bridget and continued to do so for years. During this time, my mom and I went for a walk in the pines, a wooded area west of our home, and she was struggling as a mother to understand what was going on. Why did I have such self loathing? I had so much to live for...why couldn’t I see that? This is when I finally told her about the abuse. I have never seen my mother so distraught. Did it feel better to tell her? Yes, but at the same time, due to my malnourishment and inability to look at a situation rationally, I thought it was the wrong thing to do because now it had hurt Mom. Can you see how the cycle gets so twisted?
My parents were more than willing to take action against my abuser and perhaps others would have done so, but I decided to leave it alone. I did not want to relive it again. The thing that seemed to be most important to me was getting that information out. This became the beginning of an outpouring of emotion. The struggle to do so continued for another ten painful years.
And it got worse before it got better.
I continued to work and ran on adrenaline. I seemed to be able to keep up with deadlines and actually excel in my projects. It was as if work and the disease were an all consuming preoccupation in my life (even though I denied the problem). The insanity continued; it was as though there was a sense within me that life was destined to be short. I was feeling so many things. The eating disorder already had its grip on me when I told my family about the abuse. Perhaps things might have been different if I had been able to talk about the abuse years earlier. I will never know, but I think if I had discussed it then, expressed myself in a healthy manner, the horrible journey through eating disorders may have been derailed.
“I believe the element of being able to express yourself is key to avoiding the onset of an eating disorder as well as avoiding a relapse in recovery.”
I will continue to reinforce this element of expression throughout the book.
The next few years saw the continuation of weight loss. The grip of anorexia was strong during this time. I was married in 1990 to Bill, a true angel. He did more than try to help and support me through this struggle but the disease was overwhelming...stronger than either of us would know.
My weight dropped and dropped to the lowest point of 78 lbs on this 5’8” frame of mine. Over the years I had been hospitalized on several occasions while always insisting that I didn’t have a problem...that I was fine. I couldn’t see then what I see now: the importance of nutrition not only for my body but for my mind. Not only had I lost weight. I had in the process lost my self, my soul and my spirit. I had lost my sense of reality. I became paranoid, hypersensitive to criticism, and I hurt. I hurt all over. I lost myself to the point that I just wanted to die, to have it all over with because to let go of this control would be too overwhelming to bear. To gain a pound meant I had failed, that I was no longer good at one thing.
I wouldn’t... more importantly... I couldn’t let go.
I wanted to be thinner and thinner, in hopes of eventually disappearing. A part of me took pride in my achievement. I had always considered myself mediocre, not good at anything. I finally found something I was good at...really good at.
I continued to flip through magazines as many of us do. I would continue to make sure I could feel my ribs and get my thumb and first finger around my arm. I would constantly measure my waist, my thighs, and top off the process with a step on the scale. I would see others who I deemed thinner than I and would write that I still had a long way to go before I was that thin. I think there is a bizarre envy that women have towards other women who seem to have controlled their weight, particularly when you have an eating disorder. In August of 1993 I received a letter from an anonymous young woman in the town in which I lived, who was also an eating disorder sufferer. Perhaps what was most unsettling about the letter was the following:
“I thought maybe it would make me feel better to write to you and tell you that I admire your willpower and strength to continue being as thin as you are. Every time I see you I feel envious of that power and it scares me because I want it.”
There is something very different with respect to perception when you are suffering from an eating disorder. When you get into this “headspace”, it becomes a language all its own and to break through is one hell of a difficult task. Everything took a second seat to my disease: my relationship, my family, friends and ultimately, my work.
Over the next few years, I was in and out of hospitals with my health continuing to deteriorate along with almost all my relationships. My menstrual cycle had stopped years before. I was emaciated and constantly cold. My skin was a pasty colour. My electrolytes were out of whack; potassium levels low, teeth deteriorating, and muscle spasms beginning. Emotionally I was lethargic, extremely irritable and easily frustrated. The need for perfection was intense. The self torture was insane and it affected everything and everyone around me.
How did I get better? It did not happen overnight but instead was a lengthy road to a life I now call the rainbow. Throughout my journals, a number of things reappeared that were good. They helped make it a better day, and with patience and time, a better life. My hope is that the information I share with you will help you too.
Hovering around 80 lbs.
1990 Honeymoon in Florida
1991 – 93 lbs.: Smiles... but everyday a struggle.
One of a few hospital stays.
Ringing in the New Year... a wonderful location.
CHAPTER ONE IN REVIEW
It is amazing how life, when you let it, does indeed fall into place and come full circle. With it, constant changes, and what I know now is a constant process. Today with wellness those changes are manageable. I see so clearly now that the key to dealing with change is being balanced mentally, physically and emotionally.
Upon reviewing Chapter One, “The Pain the Past”, I am reminded just how the life process works. I discussed a few of the issues that served as a catalyst for my disease: sexual and emotional abuse, family dynamics, peer pressure and the media.
Still today the media continues to promote the perfect body and at the same time discusses the issue of eating disorders to a degree never seen before. It is strangely becoming the “in thing” to have. Each week another tabloid is exploiting another young actress as she struggles to survive in the public jungle, coping by shedding pounds. While the exposure to the disease’s issues is a good thing, the fame they are attaching to it is not. At the same time, one of the top rated television programs presently is “The Biggest Loser”.
What I have