acknowledging my eating disorder.
How to start a story as old as me, one so intertwined hiding under the surface of so much pain through my life. How do I begin in a place so dark and hidden in my mind? I am barely aware it is there.
I will openly admit that I have an eating disorder; it started at about 11 or 12. It has gone through many fazes. It’s closer to the surface when I’m at my worst; when I’m doing well, it’s still hiding in the shadows, less prevalent but still making decisions for me.
Where I am now,
I am more in love with my body today than ever. I have had these fatigue spells; they have been ongoing for at least 20 years. But looking at the real problem opened a door in my mind and fallowing it back a dark rabbit hole. One I have no desire to relive.
I face myself in these mountains; they burn through me like nothing before. I face my fears, my goals, my limitations, my stupidity, and my self-beliefs. I see the worst of my mind here.
As soon as I start feeling strong in these hills, going bigger, further, a whisper starts, a lie in my thoughts, one I hide from myself. “you should not eat that, you are working so hard, eat less and become thinner.’ So quiet that for years I didn’t even hear it. ‘You are doing so well; look how fit you are becoming; if you eat less, you will look even better; if you are thinner, people will like you more, I will like you more.”
These days, I’m more aware of my mind; I’m watching now, listening more closely. I just hiked 4k vertical feet in 8 miles, burned about 5k calories, and may have eaten 1,500. I know food is fuel; why won’t I let myself eat.
Something in my mind telling me, quietly, I barely notice it, or I pretend it is telling me good advice. I believe it wants the best for me. Yes, I want to be happy, people to like me, and all my ex-boyfriends to be jealous, an evil Jedi, a Sith. “These are not the foods you are looking for.”
This has been happening to my unwitting self for so long. —the cycle of over-exercising and under-fueling. And then confusion as to why I am tired and sick. Then the natural weight gain, depression, and the long lag time to get moving again, healing my body from its trauma. Then, finally, feeling good, going hard, getting thin, and the whisper starts, “you are doing so well, look how thin you have become if you don’t eat this, you will get thinner, people will like you more, I will like me more.”
This is the most hidden of my eating distorters, the most difficult for me to spot; Im not in full anorexic mode, as I’m eating 1,500-1,800 calories a day, but with sustained activity, that is not nearly enough.
The definition of a Heather belly,
Someone whose stomach is protruding like a basketball under their shirt.
My issues with my body started pretty early; I love my family, they did the best they could for me, and that is a whole other issue to address.
I’m not angry, and I don’t want to place blame; it was the 80’s parenting. It was pretty loose back then, smoking in the house, no seatbelts, kids just freely roaming the streets. Emotional health was not a hot topic, hell heath, in general, was not a hot topic.
Hence, the store Hot Topic, created for a whole generation of emotionally stunted children from emotionally stunted and reckless 70s and 80s parents.
Put it straight; My mom was not stoked on the idea of having kids; she is happiest in her fun stages of life, children were a lot of fucking work, and I don’t blame her; I don’t have them for the same reason. I think most moms are overwhelmed and under-appreciated for their work.
But being frustrated at your job can cause a toxic work environment, within that, when your job is a mom, and you are unhappy. All things to unpack a different day.
I was a thicker kid compared to my sister, who, at graduation, was 5 foot tall and weighed 98lbs.
The difference was noted, pointed out, and made known my whole life, her this frail light thing. Me a sack of potatoes.
Graduation for me was 5’2 and 125. A lifetime of being referred to as “Deadweight, Sack of Potatoes and heifer, with the occasional pointing out of a “heather Belly” In my mind, I was Jabba the Hut. I had no positive body references to look to within myself. All I saw was dead weight, heifer. I look back at photos, and I look like a normal kid. But, in reality, I could not escape those labels. I was what they called me; that was all I could see.
Girls are mean; why I’m not sure, also another story. In seventh grade, the queen of our girl click decided I was not good enough for our friend’s group. So I was voted off the island, the steps by the orchestra room where we ate lunch together. I cannot express enough the damage done to me that day, how long it lasted. It was one of the most emotionally devastating things that has ever happened to me, and I barely started to recover 25 years later.
Given my already fragile state, this kicked me into a major depression. Suicide was a nagging chirp in my mind. I started restricting my food severely at this point; I lost about 15 lbs that year. I spent the rest of middle school and high school playing with anorexia. Funny, I started to enjoy the pain of hunger; it felt better than rejection. This glitch is still part of my life; when i feel rejection, I begin to control my eating, as huger is an easier pain to process. I am letting myself feel these days; it helps.
Sports were not a large part of my life growing up; I was allergic to outside, constantly drugged, and didn’t want to put effort into it. I don’t think I liked that I sucked at everything.
But I started running, as a way to lose weight, a great combination to not eating. Exercise boosted the thinning effects. That is how I spent most of my high school years. If anyone in my family noticed, they did not bring it up to me. If they did, I would deny it, and the conversation ended. My family did not like confrontation, so it was easy for them to pretend I was ok; I said I was.
There was a lot that happened from the age of 17-25. I can’t even begin to unpack that hell hole in my mind. The amount of self-hate and disgust. Fear, confusion, and shame that I had taken on with the events in my life that unfolded. In this stage, the cycle expanded, adding binge and purge to over-exercising, laxatives, and extreme calorie reduction, give or take when ephedrine was legal. I remember clocking in 80 miles a week of running off of apples, granola, and yogurt.
My insides were broken, but I if I could keep the outside looking fine. Maybe people would like the broken insides, or perhaps I would like broken in me.
WRONG!!
Funny, the thinner I got, the more I disliked myself, the more the mean voices in my head would remind me, “you are not good enough, you will never be like them, no one likes you. But if you are skinny, all that pain goes away.”
My dissociation with my body and fear of food has been a part of my life for so long; I barely notice it as it wreaks havoc, but with watching and actively trying to face the hard parts of me. Finally, it’s gotten easier to see this and begin the process of owning it.
I’m in a better place inside my mind and soul these days, self-love is a large part of my life, and with that, I see others love for me, thin or not. There is still a large part of this puzzle that needs to be addressed. But for now! I will acknowledge my pain, fear, and struggles; I will not abandon myself when I cry out for help! And I will not listen to the lies in my mind. I will do what it takes to help heal this part of me.
For now, it is acknowledging the problem and letting the bottled-up emotions behind it free. And I have had people to talk to that understand and encourage the healing process. I am here for anyone else who wants to talk, though currently, I dominate the conversation. Letting my insides be heard. Hopefully, soon, Il settles and be able to listen better.
The Mountains Inside 