I am not sure if I have ever really talked in depth about my battle with an eating disorder so many years ago, and my continual struggle with body dysmorphic disorder, but I saw this documentary the other day that got me to thinking, and made me want to reflect on some of my own experience with the subject. The documentary was called Thin, and it focuses on women that are at a clinic for eating disorders, and shows what they go through trying to beat the disease. What’s weird to me about the movie, is that the film maker definitely doesn’t take sides, and it shows how much blame really exists when people see someone suffering from an eating disorder. There was even one patient that was asked to leave, because she was seen as a bad influence. That actually shocked me.
See, when I was at the height of my eating disorder, which I will refer to as anorexia, but it really wasn’t (I will explain in a second), I knew exactly what I was doing, and knew what effect what I was doing to myself would have. I was literally killing myself to be thinner; but I couldn’t stop myself. This was a typical day in my life back when I was in the height of my illness:
– Go to AM classes.
– Come back to apartment, eat cereal (frosted flakes usually) with skim milk, and maybe a cucumber with fat free sour cream ranch dip.
– Go to afternoon classes. Meet friends on campus at one of the ala carte dining spots, but only have a diet soda, nothing to eat.
– After coming home from final classes, get changed and go to the gym. While at the gym, run 6 miles and do 4-5 weight machines, followed by sit ups.
– Have dinner at the apartment, usually rice with a veggie burger (fat free, of course).
– Do homework/watch TV, go to bed.
I would follow this routine roughly six days a week. On the sixth day, when I obviously didn’t have class, I would work out a little longer, if I had time. My life focused on structure, getting things accomplished, and order. I counted every calorie, and knew (and still know) how many calories are in almost any kind of food. I can still to this day make a pretty approximate guess of how many calories and fat are in just about any kind of food, be it fast food, or food that I prepared. I made sure I never had more than 10 grams of fat a day, and I made sure that I never went over 1200 calories in a day. In fact, that was considered the maximum for me, and I don’t think I ever even got close to consuming that amount. The 6 mile run would burn off at least that much, so that was where the limit came from. I never had a cheat day, and I was always conscious of what was being eaten by anyone around me. This explains why I still have an iron clad will power when it comes to food (even though, I have gotten pretty good at ignoring it lately). I can so no to any kind of food; all because I know what eating it will do. It will make me fat.
This is going to be a long entry, so I will cut it here, and put the rest after the jump. There is also a picture of me from this time after the cut, so if you want to see how truly skinny I was; well, read on!!!
I was convinced (still am) that I was fat, when it was obvious at the time, I was actually quite the opposite. Here is a picture of me at the height of my illness: (yes, I was drunk in the photo, so ignore the half closed eye!)
Whether you believe it or not, or chose to chastise me for it or not, I have never, nor will I ever, believe that I looked too skinny. I think that I looked good. I still do. I always will wish that I could be that skinny again. Why you ask? Because I have body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), still do. Probably always will. It is a disorder that means when I look at myself, I see something different than everyone around me sees. I see myself as much fatter than I actually am. It is interesting that I have allowed myself to get as heavy as I am right now, because whenever I look at myself in a mirror, I literally cringe. I remember being thinner, but don’t really remember how thin I was, because I have always seen myself as fat. I have always been uncomfortable with what stares back at me in the mirror, and I probably always will. The only thing keeping me from hopping back on that treadmill right this second, is the depression and anxiety that I have been going through. These things have prevented me from taking action against gaining weight, but the bad feelings about the weight remain. But, I know that I will never go back to my rigid, and dangerous schedule again, even though I will at some point get back into the gym to hopefully lose some of the weight I have gained.
Now, I bet you are wondering what this has to do with the documentary, why I was shocked they treated the girls so badly, and what I have to say about my own dysmorphia, right? Well, to be honest, I really can’t understand how anyone that hasn’t been in these shoes can make a judgement about how hard it is to stop doing it. When you have an eating disorder, it isn’t because you don’t want to eat, or don’t like eating. In fact, for me, it had nothing to do with food. It had everything to do with how I looked. Everything. I would do anything to be and stay thin. And, when you have BDD, you never see yourself as thin EVER, so you continue trying to lose weight. You can’t stop. It is as if you are trying so hard to attain a goal that is completely unattainable; but you don’t know that. I guess what I took away from the documentary, was that there is little to no sympathy for these women, because people see this as a psychological mishap that makes these people lie, cheat, and throw up, just to maintain a certain sense of skinniness. The reality, is that because of the influence of a perfectionistic body-conscious society is so strong, that some people lack the ability to keep that influence from affecting them. Just ask a gay man how important he thinks it is to have rock hard abs! I don’t think I have ever met a gay man that is completely happy with everything about himself. The reason, is because along with that influence of a “perfect” body being the “standard” for all gay men, we have other emotional and traumatic issues we have gone through and continue to grapple with every day. The result of those impacts on our lives, is the constant questioning of whether or not you can make yourself what you have convinced yourself is the norm (even though it isn’t). Some people, like me, who have BDD, turn that desire and constant critic into an insatiable quest to reach that goal, or perish; because the only alternative is sheer misery and discontent.
I don’t expect anyone to truly understand what it feels like to have these thoughts unless they have had them, because it isn’t likely you can understand what it feels like to come out unless you have, but I wanted to share my experience with the illness, to show that even logic and understanding have no ground with fighting this disease. Even though I know that I was being unhealthy, even though I knew that everyone was saying I was too skinny and needed to gain weight, I couldn’t hear them; not because I didn’t want to, but literally because I couldn’t. Going throughout this disorder is a daily challenge; it is hard just not to eat at all. Luckily, when my self esteem rose (after coming out) I was able to snap out of the negative effects of the illness, and actually gain some weight, but it doesn’t mean it went away. It is still in there, and I have to fight not to let it take over again. Watching these people in the documentary turn their backs on that girl was shameful and really hurt me; because even though she was manipulative and a lyer, she was only doing what she could to satisfy the feelings inside her. She was trying to make herself thin, stay that way, at all costs. I know this, because I have been there. Dying to be thin. And yes, I want more than anything else to lose some of the weight that I am carrying right now… but I am fortunate enough to be one of the ones that will never go so far in trying to be thin as to kill myself, ever again.
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