Self-loathing, we are all guilty of it. We are never 100% happy with ourselves. Always comparing ourselves to others, am I prettier? am I thinner? Am I funnier? Am I cleverer than so and so.
As silly as it sounds we need to learn to love ourselves. There is no one like you, you’re unique, isn’t that awesome?
Difficult concept to get the mind around. We are so worried about what other people think, we don’t judge ourselves on what we do but rather from the evaluation others give us, which turns into a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy. And lets face it, no one is loved by everyone, its impossible. We put our focus on our failures and not our success that is actually so sad. I firmly believe in the idea of, how can anyone else love and respect you when you do not love and respect yourself?
And this is what I am guilty of. Ever since my dad passed away, I have hated myself, hated my behaviour, and had absolutely no respect for the person who I was. I lost all ambition. This is rather gross, but females will know this trick: putting baby powder into your hair when there is no time to wash and dry it, allowing your hair to look clean without the time consuming washing, drying straightening process. I was in matric or grade 11 I cant remember, and I did not wash my hair for I don’t know how long. I used the baby powder to make it look clean, which is a great trick for once off, NOT for a month, pushing two. That’s just gross!
I don’t know why I did it. Everyday more and more powder. When I ran out of baby powder, now brace yourself, I resorted to flour, as in baking flour. I didn’t think anything of it until a friend, on hearing I put flour in my hair, told me with a disgusted look that flour is food, and proceeded to ask if I had animals in my hair. Funny yes, but could have actually had been true if I carried on flouring my hair. And because I smoked, my hair smelt like stale smoke. Trashy yes? In addition to that I felt nothing wearing my self-tan stained uniform over and over, I didn’t care. I insisted on wearing my shortest dresses, belt never included. I had the belts and would purposely take them off the dress before school, just because. I wore the wrong earrings and hair ties, school jersey usually pushed over one shoulder with my collar popped ever so slightly. Bear in mind I went to a private school that prided itself on the perfection of the pupils. So I think it was rebellion. I had a strong belief that the system was corrupt and selfish, and they only really cared if you were in a first team or fashioned an academic blazer. I felt I never really fitted the mould as I settled for 50’s and played 4th team hockey. I didn’t enjoy my last few years of school which I think is really tragic.
I didn’t respect myself much or take much pride in my appearance which one me a few sittings in the headmistresses office. Often teachers would pull me aside and tell me to wash my hair, clean my face, lengthen my skirt, and still I didn’t care. My sister was the head girl of my school a few years before and I think I tried to show them that I was different. The more they told me not to do something the more I did it. I really just wanted to piss them off cause they irritated me. As mentioned in previous blogs, one teacher said I was going to fail matric so I might as well stop trying. In fact since I entered high school I felt pretty stupid, not many of the teachers liked me from the word go, and no one really wanted to help when I didn’t understand.
I think back to junior school, I was never naughty I was just forgetful and lazy and would rather have a detention or 5 than hand in a half finished science-space project, or worse…class sports. I was the first 8 year old to get a detention in the class, and I remember thinking I was quiet hectic. All the girls who were at after care watched me and asked me why I was there, what I was doing. It was quite funny, kind of like a, "wot you in for?" kind of thing. I felt badass.
When I was 6, I was one of three girls caught drinking beer in grade 1. A friend of mine said her domestic worker packed a beer instead of her juice. Now she would be the Regina, from Mean Girls. She insisted we try it. It was foreign beer so the bottle was a dark blue (easy mistake). But we all analysed the bottle and knew we were doing a naughty thing, but we did it anyway. Hid under the desks and all took turns. To this day I do not know how anyone found out but all three of us, at the tender age of 6 having sipped the foam off the top of the bottle, were called into the headmistresses office and interrogated.
I won another visit to the headmistress’s office when I told a girl I would cut her a fringe. I did. It was really lovely, real short, like the end of a broom stuck to her forehead. But after grade 4 the detentions rolled in, as I said I never did anything bad, it was for an unsigned homework diary or what ever. The only few accomplishments I made in school were vice head of house, for a term, so like 2/3 months, I got to play a windmill and a camel, where there were about 20 odd windmills, and the camels featured for about a minute. Now picture this, I was as big as a house, so the camel suit just happened to be, the same material as stockings in a full piece suit. A shear, nylon, one-piece…beige. Stunning. And my best one was I won a prize for a poem I wrote:
There once was a boy called Ben.
Who liked a little girl called Jen.
Ben gave her a kiss,
Jen said, "siss."
And they never saw each other again.
One accomplishment I didn’t make was getting into grade 0. I failed my entrance exam. Now the night before the exam, my brother and sister had got me fully prepped. They made sure I knew everyone’s names, my home address, my telephone number the works but they had no idea what was coming…
I was handed a marshmallow. The woman told me to place the marshmallow on the left of the chair, the right of the chair, underneath the chair and on top of the chair… well I popped that marshmallow straight in my mouth, and would have to try again next year. I would have to try again next year. This is the slogan that I have lived with up to this day.
I was never negative as a little girl, I saw good in everything. And in high school I just saw the bad in everything. I hated my image, my results, my weight, my life. I had a mental block, I would never work hard because I believed no matter how hard I worked I would still come out below average. I think I just though of myself as a below average person, with a cruddy personality and nothing much to offer. I hated myself.
When I started drinking alcohol this hatred grew, not while I was drinking but the days that followed. I would get so angry with myself, I would hit or rather beat myself in the face, shouting repeatedly, "stupid/selfish/pig/worthless," or what ever other word was fitting for the time. I did this till I actually formed a bruise on my face. I told everyone I knocked into the corner of my shelf or the more believable one, that I was dancing in the club and a big buy was dancing next to me and by mistake elbowed me right in the eye. This sounds utterly mad, but this was the person I was.
Alcohol became my numbing cream, as it does with alcoholics and actually people in general. We have all heard of the, "nothing better than a glass of wine to take the edge off." I wouldn’t say that in high school I drank like an alcoholic, I just drank too much for a girl that age. I drank to be noticed, to have the courage to do the outrageous, the things others wouldn’t dare do; take copious amounts of shots, drink straight vodka, be the chick that was just so hardcore and too cool. (right drinking straight vodka and lots of shots may sound completely acceptable, and yes, fine it is. But not when you’re a young girl in grade 10/11)
Here we go, it was my 16 birthday, it was a combined birthday with my friend. We had been planning guest lists months in advance and we spoke about it in maths everyday. Who we spoke to last night, who said they were coming, counting the boys and girls lists and saying how mad it was going to be. And it was, it was a lot of fun. But after the chilled house party we went out to a club, excited and expecting the best night ever. I was after a boy who I though was utterly delicious. He was at our party and at the club he sat next to me on the couch. In front of us was an ice bucket with a bottle of gold tequila staring at me in the face. I was a little tipsy on ciders, and I felt really pretty, I was excited. And this boy who I had liked for a while was actually taking to me, he was actually interested, he sat with me instead of dancing with his friends. So I thought I needed to up my confidence and make him think I was really cool. I grabbed the tequila and a champagne glass, filled it once downed it and filled it again, then proceeded to offer it to the people around us. They of course were wise enough to know that a flute of tequila is not a good idea, at any time. The rest of the night I was passed out on the couch. When we were leaving the boy helped me up, and typical, I said leave me I can do it myself. He let me go, and as he did my legs gave way and I fell flat on the concrete. Hitting the side of my head, I was a dead weight. People thought I was concussed. They carried me out, basically foaming at the mouth and I was driven home to my friend’s house. In the middle I needed to go to the toilet, I got up, barely able to walk, stumbled into the bathroom, slipped on the bathmat, into the shower. Luckily I didn’t fall through the shower and was able to push myself off the glass to standing, where I slipped again and face planted into the ceramic basin, scraping the gum of my top front teeth of and chipping my front tooth slightly.
Needless to say the next day I felt like death. I was embarrassed. My mom picked me up and asked if I was eating chocolate, I was so confused and said no why, and she said oh you have black stuff in your teeth. The black stuff was dried blood. I ignored the question and changed the subject. That day I got a message from that boy, he asked me how I was feeling and said he wished I had never got so drunk because he wanted to kiss me. I wanted to kick myself. Unfortunately with this incident I don’t think I hit my head hard enough, in terms of knocking some sense into it.
Sunday, 20 May 2012
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Sometimes A Mother Doesn't Know The Answer
I thought it was all good to speak from my experience but that gives a narrow perception. I asked my mother to write about her experience of my eating and weight, from what she can remember and beginning of the alcohol dependence. This too, like my other blogs has not been altered, I asked her to be honest and just write so here it is:
*************************************************************************************************************************
Juliette is 6- round gap toothed, with a lisp, and a head full of curls- like a tumbleweed- her dad’s name for her, but very round.
7 years old, still fun, still round- I am starting to be concerned. Jule could finish a large pizza and still have, "space for a chicco the clown ice-cream after dinner."
Guy her dad is concerned. He was fat as a child and mocked relentlessly. Beachball and moon face were names he had to deal with! Jules only mentioned 2 instances when people were cruel to her about her weight, but I know, because I am a mom that there were many other stories.
How does a parent deal with a child who has been humiliated by other adults in front of her peers, and try to build up self-confidence???
I have never seen such a small person put up such a brave front, and pull herself through such difficult and embarrassing situations; trying to wear trendy clothes, bikinis, the latest hairstyle- all totally unsuitable for her size and weight. My heart broke so many times and I cried so much for her.
In my wisdom I started her at a dietician who weighed her and encouraged her and me with new recipes and tricks to make her lunch boxes interesting- what?
Jules had a salad everyday, she must have gone mad, even the teddy bear serviette at the bottom of the lunchbox must have irritated her!
Once she swapped her salad: no problem mom it was also a salad! Oh good darling what salad- potatoes, mayo and egg mom, so delicious!
I hated that people noticed that she was overweight and had a huge appetite. I felt it reflected on me and how ineffectual as a mother I was. I had to hide any treats I brought for Nick and Gina so that Jule couldn’t find them- no chance.
I took her out of desperation to the doctor who actually said to me, "Mals watch this little person; she is a prime candidate for an eating disorder- what??? Not my child- why???
By standard 5 or grade 7, Jule weighed 72kgs, I was frantic and so was Guy- but he couldn’t deal with it- he was a fat kid and did not want her to be. I prayed so much for her, even telling her to imagine a little angel sitting on her shoulder, encouraging her to resist any edible temptations. She flicked that angel right off her shoulder… literally.
In March 2002 on the 23rd, Guy was away in the bush with some friends when he suffered a major heart attack. He died with some dear friends around him but far away from his family. It was devastating and completely unexpected. This larger than life human being was gone forever.
Losing her dad at such a vulnerable age sent Juliette on a path so dark and painful. Grief is a very long, personal and lonely road; there is no pill or band-aid big enough and I was heart broken for myself and aching for my 3 children. I turned to food for comfort and so did Juliette. We were inseparable- Nick and Gina her siblings went back to Cape Town to finish their degrees and Jubes was the centre of my focus.
The furthest thing on my mind was dieting.
In 2003 Jubes was with a friend and met a woman who was promoting a diet called lean for life. Juliette was intrigued and asked me to buy the book and the various vitamins, protein bars etc that went with it. I did it willingly and Juliette set her mind to it and the weight started shifting as it had never done before. We were beside ourselves with excitement.
Clothes shopping was no longer a nightmare and Juliette single mindedly and rigidly stuck to her eating plan. At this time she learnt another lesson: a fat friend is a safe friend, a thin friend is a threat!!
I was so happy to see her losing weight and apparently gaining confidence. I did not notice the darker signs creeping in!
In 2004 I remarried and naturally and understandably the children on both sides were very stressed. Because Juliette lived at home still, she of course was with us all the time and she was extremely difficult and resentful to Tony (husband).
She continued her diet but had now added some new sidelines to it! anything she read about speeding up metabolism, flushing out your system etc, she did. Our coffee consumption trebled, she exercised frantically and eventually started on the herbal tea.
2005 she begged to go to boarding school and against my better judgement I allowed it. She had started on her course of trying to be accepted, she had lost weight, she always had to be funny, she had to look pretty- always searching- always running from herself in an attempt to feel better.
Boarding school was a mistake! She was anxious about the food- either binging or starving and the herbal/medicinal tea her beverage of choice. I know too she was very homesick and the weekends were a nightmare- and at this very lonely.
I was beside myself with anxiety torn between wanting her to realize that she had embarked on this boarding school mission and knowing that I really wanted her home.
6 months into the year we went to Granny in Durban for the weekend and she took me aside and urged me to take Jule out of boarding school and back home- what a wise piece of advice and one that I followed. On the way home, car packed and in high spirits we drove out of the school gates and that is when I noticed the scratches on Jules arm. She told me she ran past a girl in home-ec who was holding a grater and had grazed herself, and I fell for it!!! Unbelievable I know, but I was not sure I wanted to believe the truth.
Back at home Jule was getting thinner and thinner but still binging at times- I was still in denial.
One hot morning I got a call from school, "please can you come, Juliette has collapsed. Bring some clean clothes, she has soiled herself." I was beside myself. I tore up to the school, shaking to fetch my skinny, pale, shaky child with eyes like saucers and shivering.
We went straight to the doctor and then onto the neurologist where she underwent every imaginable test, EEG etc. I never stopped praying for all my children but I was terrified at this point. None of the tests were conclusive so we just bumbled on as before.
One day our housekeeper came to me with a whole pile of laxative wrappers. I had never heard of them, but suddenly Jule’s haunted skinny look, all made sense. She was hooked on laxatives. The way they made her feel purged.
When I look at photos of her at her std 9/grade 11 dance- I cant believe what I missed. She was pale, gaunt and her pupils were so large. She was terrified of eating carbohydrates, but the laxatives were like a ticket to binge.
We started on a rollercoaster of psychologists and therapy a very painful journey trying to find the right people and in the meantime dealing with the ongoing addiction.
On one frightening occasion she collapsed after having who knows how many laxatives and she just clung to me crying and saying, "Mommy I am sick. Please help me," words that can cut into a mom’s heart like a blunt teaspoon, it was so painful.
I am not sure when the drinking started, I think probably at the end of standard 9 going into matric. That period in my life is like a blur.
Seeing my child’s unhappiness at school, and her difficulty with Tony etc, was a nightmare. Tony was very aware of eating disorders and all that goes with it, having dealt with it in his own life and I think Juliette knew this and was a little wary of him because he was onto her and knew all the deviousness of people with these disorders.
Alcohol was just another way out of facing up to unresolved grief, and self-acceptance and Juliette embraced it with gusto.
I am not going to enlarge on this period except to say it tore our family apart. We; Nick, Gina and myself were beside ourselves. She could never say no and never knew when to stop. She wanted to be the life and soul of every party, she wanted everyone to come home to our house and party till dawn. Her behaviour was frightening and unacceptable.
*************************************************************************************************************************
Juliette is 6- round gap toothed, with a lisp, and a head full of curls- like a tumbleweed- her dad’s name for her, but very round.
7 years old, still fun, still round- I am starting to be concerned. Jule could finish a large pizza and still have, "space for a chicco the clown ice-cream after dinner."
Guy her dad is concerned. He was fat as a child and mocked relentlessly. Beachball and moon face were names he had to deal with! Jules only mentioned 2 instances when people were cruel to her about her weight, but I know, because I am a mom that there were many other stories.
How does a parent deal with a child who has been humiliated by other adults in front of her peers, and try to build up self-confidence???
I have never seen such a small person put up such a brave front, and pull herself through such difficult and embarrassing situations; trying to wear trendy clothes, bikinis, the latest hairstyle- all totally unsuitable for her size and weight. My heart broke so many times and I cried so much for her.
In my wisdom I started her at a dietician who weighed her and encouraged her and me with new recipes and tricks to make her lunch boxes interesting- what?
Jules had a salad everyday, she must have gone mad, even the teddy bear serviette at the bottom of the lunchbox must have irritated her!
Once she swapped her salad: no problem mom it was also a salad! Oh good darling what salad- potatoes, mayo and egg mom, so delicious!
I hated that people noticed that she was overweight and had a huge appetite. I felt it reflected on me and how ineffectual as a mother I was. I had to hide any treats I brought for Nick and Gina so that Jule couldn’t find them- no chance.
I took her out of desperation to the doctor who actually said to me, "Mals watch this little person; she is a prime candidate for an eating disorder- what??? Not my child- why???
By standard 5 or grade 7, Jule weighed 72kgs, I was frantic and so was Guy- but he couldn’t deal with it- he was a fat kid and did not want her to be. I prayed so much for her, even telling her to imagine a little angel sitting on her shoulder, encouraging her to resist any edible temptations. She flicked that angel right off her shoulder… literally.
In March 2002 on the 23rd, Guy was away in the bush with some friends when he suffered a major heart attack. He died with some dear friends around him but far away from his family. It was devastating and completely unexpected. This larger than life human being was gone forever.
Losing her dad at such a vulnerable age sent Juliette on a path so dark and painful. Grief is a very long, personal and lonely road; there is no pill or band-aid big enough and I was heart broken for myself and aching for my 3 children. I turned to food for comfort and so did Juliette. We were inseparable- Nick and Gina her siblings went back to Cape Town to finish their degrees and Jubes was the centre of my focus.
The furthest thing on my mind was dieting.
In 2003 Jubes was with a friend and met a woman who was promoting a diet called lean for life. Juliette was intrigued and asked me to buy the book and the various vitamins, protein bars etc that went with it. I did it willingly and Juliette set her mind to it and the weight started shifting as it had never done before. We were beside ourselves with excitement.
Clothes shopping was no longer a nightmare and Juliette single mindedly and rigidly stuck to her eating plan. At this time she learnt another lesson: a fat friend is a safe friend, a thin friend is a threat!!
I was so happy to see her losing weight and apparently gaining confidence. I did not notice the darker signs creeping in!
In 2004 I remarried and naturally and understandably the children on both sides were very stressed. Because Juliette lived at home still, she of course was with us all the time and she was extremely difficult and resentful to Tony (husband).
She continued her diet but had now added some new sidelines to it! anything she read about speeding up metabolism, flushing out your system etc, she did. Our coffee consumption trebled, she exercised frantically and eventually started on the herbal tea.
2005 she begged to go to boarding school and against my better judgement I allowed it. She had started on her course of trying to be accepted, she had lost weight, she always had to be funny, she had to look pretty- always searching- always running from herself in an attempt to feel better.
Boarding school was a mistake! She was anxious about the food- either binging or starving and the herbal/medicinal tea her beverage of choice. I know too she was very homesick and the weekends were a nightmare- and at this very lonely.
I was beside myself with anxiety torn between wanting her to realize that she had embarked on this boarding school mission and knowing that I really wanted her home.
6 months into the year we went to Granny in Durban for the weekend and she took me aside and urged me to take Jule out of boarding school and back home- what a wise piece of advice and one that I followed. On the way home, car packed and in high spirits we drove out of the school gates and that is when I noticed the scratches on Jules arm. She told me she ran past a girl in home-ec who was holding a grater and had grazed herself, and I fell for it!!! Unbelievable I know, but I was not sure I wanted to believe the truth.
Back at home Jule was getting thinner and thinner but still binging at times- I was still in denial.
One hot morning I got a call from school, "please can you come, Juliette has collapsed. Bring some clean clothes, she has soiled herself." I was beside myself. I tore up to the school, shaking to fetch my skinny, pale, shaky child with eyes like saucers and shivering.
We went straight to the doctor and then onto the neurologist where she underwent every imaginable test, EEG etc. I never stopped praying for all my children but I was terrified at this point. None of the tests were conclusive so we just bumbled on as before.
One day our housekeeper came to me with a whole pile of laxative wrappers. I had never heard of them, but suddenly Jule’s haunted skinny look, all made sense. She was hooked on laxatives. The way they made her feel purged.
When I look at photos of her at her std 9/grade 11 dance- I cant believe what I missed. She was pale, gaunt and her pupils were so large. She was terrified of eating carbohydrates, but the laxatives were like a ticket to binge.
We started on a rollercoaster of psychologists and therapy a very painful journey trying to find the right people and in the meantime dealing with the ongoing addiction.
On one frightening occasion she collapsed after having who knows how many laxatives and she just clung to me crying and saying, "Mommy I am sick. Please help me," words that can cut into a mom’s heart like a blunt teaspoon, it was so painful.
I am not sure when the drinking started, I think probably at the end of standard 9 going into matric. That period in my life is like a blur.
Seeing my child’s unhappiness at school, and her difficulty with Tony etc, was a nightmare. Tony was very aware of eating disorders and all that goes with it, having dealt with it in his own life and I think Juliette knew this and was a little wary of him because he was onto her and knew all the deviousness of people with these disorders.
Alcohol was just another way out of facing up to unresolved grief, and self-acceptance and Juliette embraced it with gusto.
I am not going to enlarge on this period except to say it tore our family apart. We; Nick, Gina and myself were beside ourselves. She could never say no and never knew when to stop. She wanted to be the life and soul of every party, she wanted everyone to come home to our house and party till dawn. Her behaviour was frightening and unacceptable.
Thursday, 29 March 2012
My Liquid Crutch
This blog, as a whole may come across as having a self-pitying, ‘poor me’ nature about it, but this is not my intention. I want to voice my feelings and problems and put them out there with no remorse and no fear and as idealistic as this may sound, I feel it may help people in knowing that they are not alone, that there are ways around a problem, and they are not the so-called problem.
There is a saying, "you are your own problem and you’re your own solution." I do not know who said this but I do know it was in the movie Bridesmaids, but that’s not the point. Some people say these are wise words, wise? I don’t think so, motivational? Maybe…I think it’s quite simply, ridiculous. Yes some people surround themselves with drama and create issues for no particular reason, in my opinion they are bored as all hell, and need something to complain about because in truth, their life is actually not that bad. Why would we want to make our own problems? Creating problems that don’t exist? Why would we want to torture ourselves like that, drop ourselves into a deep and seemingly endless depression?
In terms of that quotation, I’m not talking about little problems that are usually self-imposed, I’m talking about the ones we actually have no control over; a sick parent, a sick sibling, death of a parent or sibling, being bullied at school or at work, these problems we do not cause ourselves, we do not want them or ask for them, they are given to us by fate, destiny, God or the universe, which ever you believe in. From these problems spiral webs of smaller problems which get bigger and usually completely out of control if they are not attended to.
I’m sure many people have witnessed this with a friend, a parent, or even a movie, but an example of this spiralling is alcoholism. A little problem is helped with a glass or two of wine, which turns into a bottle or two of wine, to perhaps a box or two of wine (Silly example but I think that sums it up). Many young people, I’m talking high school and early varsity students, think alcoholism is a joke, getting drunk is cool, and if you’re the drunkest you’re a legend. I know I thought that, I was that girl, the drunkest at the party ALWAYS.
Alcoholism is an illness.
I have been living off ‘crutches’; comfort food, restricting food, exercise, nicotine and eventually alcohol. My drinking started off as a confidence enhancer, so to speak, and resulted in me destroying my relationships, severely hurting my family, humiliating myself at any chance I got (unintentionally), and making close to a decade of my life and memories an alcoholic blur.
This may sound hideously clichéd but the song ‘somebody that I used to know’ by Gotye has a lyric, "you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness," to me this lyric sums up the problem. You can get addicted to sadness, you cannot get out and it can kill you emotionally. I like to think of it as giving up smoking, you so desperately want to stop and break free but just cant, but then there are those ones that do, they build up the strength to just break out of it, some more easily than others.
At the top of the blogsite it reads "do you ever look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re still there," it was taken from an Arctic Monkeys lyric, "do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there." Because honestly I don’t know how many times I looked into the mirror either still drunk the morning after a big night, when I was drunk out or came home drunk, I would look into the mirror and not really like what or who I saw, I didn’t know that person, but they were apart of me and some people knew me as that drunk mess in the mirror. I hear stories of my behaviour when I was drunk and I die inside, that sinking feeling of absolute shame. I had no control over what I did, which may sound like a poor excuse but its true. My level of drunkenness was not that of tipsy mistakes but rather of fatal drinking. My tipsy was another persons ‘smashed’. When I look back now it, it feels like I did have a split personality (I didn’t/don’t). I completely switched when I was drunk, I was; aggressive, obnoxious, violent, cruel, annoying and at some points, I had thoughts of suicide.
This is merely an introduction to a whole load of stories, which are humorous, shocking, sad and just scary.
There is a saying, "you are your own problem and you’re your own solution." I do not know who said this but I do know it was in the movie Bridesmaids, but that’s not the point. Some people say these are wise words, wise? I don’t think so, motivational? Maybe…I think it’s quite simply, ridiculous. Yes some people surround themselves with drama and create issues for no particular reason, in my opinion they are bored as all hell, and need something to complain about because in truth, their life is actually not that bad. Why would we want to make our own problems? Creating problems that don’t exist? Why would we want to torture ourselves like that, drop ourselves into a deep and seemingly endless depression?
In terms of that quotation, I’m not talking about little problems that are usually self-imposed, I’m talking about the ones we actually have no control over; a sick parent, a sick sibling, death of a parent or sibling, being bullied at school or at work, these problems we do not cause ourselves, we do not want them or ask for them, they are given to us by fate, destiny, God or the universe, which ever you believe in. From these problems spiral webs of smaller problems which get bigger and usually completely out of control if they are not attended to.
I’m sure many people have witnessed this with a friend, a parent, or even a movie, but an example of this spiralling is alcoholism. A little problem is helped with a glass or two of wine, which turns into a bottle or two of wine, to perhaps a box or two of wine (Silly example but I think that sums it up). Many young people, I’m talking high school and early varsity students, think alcoholism is a joke, getting drunk is cool, and if you’re the drunkest you’re a legend. I know I thought that, I was that girl, the drunkest at the party ALWAYS.
Alcoholism is an illness.
I have been living off ‘crutches’; comfort food, restricting food, exercise, nicotine and eventually alcohol. My drinking started off as a confidence enhancer, so to speak, and resulted in me destroying my relationships, severely hurting my family, humiliating myself at any chance I got (unintentionally), and making close to a decade of my life and memories an alcoholic blur.
This may sound hideously clichéd but the song ‘somebody that I used to know’ by Gotye has a lyric, "you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness," to me this lyric sums up the problem. You can get addicted to sadness, you cannot get out and it can kill you emotionally. I like to think of it as giving up smoking, you so desperately want to stop and break free but just cant, but then there are those ones that do, they build up the strength to just break out of it, some more easily than others.
At the top of the blogsite it reads "do you ever look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re still there," it was taken from an Arctic Monkeys lyric, "do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there." Because honestly I don’t know how many times I looked into the mirror either still drunk the morning after a big night, when I was drunk out or came home drunk, I would look into the mirror and not really like what or who I saw, I didn’t know that person, but they were apart of me and some people knew me as that drunk mess in the mirror. I hear stories of my behaviour when I was drunk and I die inside, that sinking feeling of absolute shame. I had no control over what I did, which may sound like a poor excuse but its true. My level of drunkenness was not that of tipsy mistakes but rather of fatal drinking. My tipsy was another persons ‘smashed’. When I look back now it, it feels like I did have a split personality (I didn’t/don’t). I completely switched when I was drunk, I was; aggressive, obnoxious, violent, cruel, annoying and at some points, I had thoughts of suicide.
This is merely an introduction to a whole load of stories, which are humorous, shocking, sad and just scary.
A Dangerous Sacrifice
When it comes to bulimia, I see it as similar to the ‘art’ of smuggling. You know you’re doing something that is wrong, you’re scared of being caught but will stop at nothing to feel the benefits of the act. But when you get caught, your resources are cut off and it becomes much harder to implement.
I was caught vomiting countless times. And my excuse ranged from, me saying I had a headache, or the food was too rich or that I just felt sick. My excuses ran out, and what ever I told my mom or whoever was concerned, they knew I was lying. People knew I was bulimic and I kept trying to deny it, but eventually I was just exhausted. I was tired of psychologists, and seeing as though I had three at one time, I would have to repeat the same story three times. Except for that one psychologist who tried to stop herself from yawning but I could see she wanted to as her nostrils grew bigger and her lips grew longer. I didn’t really talk in her sessions. And then the psychologist who had a beige walled office, beige picture frames, beige chair and couches, beige clothes and a really beige personality, she was a real treat.
Because I was under so much surveillance, and I could see I was damaging my mother physically and emotionally. It became too hard to keep up with bulimia. It was like a job, I had to be dedicated and committed and willing to do whatever it took to benefit. But I noticed my whole life was slowly crumbling, as I said I was destroying my family, getting help from every sector and not taking it, and my academics dropped drastically. Look I was never going to be the Dux Scholar, but I was bright, I was just lazy as all hell. But my main focus was on my weight and it had to stop.
I spent every second break time in my biology teacher’s classroom; writing out the path of a blood cell or the path of lipids during digestion, each 10 times. One of the English teachers who I never really liked, told me I was stupid and the biology teacher said I was going to fail matric so I might as well give up now because I am ‘NOWHERE!’ so school as you can imagine, was a really motivational and inspiring space for me. I cried after school basically everyday because I had been labelled as less than average, and in my mind I told myself I couldn’t do the work because I wasn’t smart enough. Scary how much teachers impact our lives and lead us into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure or a feeling of worthlessness.
I wanted to prove them wrong, along with some of the girls, who never took what I said in class seriously and who thought I was actually stupid. I tried really hard to eat healthily, I did go to gym everyday but I was eventually back on track and eating properly. I felt good and confident after having no ambition, no drive to do anything vaguely challenging. I was ready and I was going to make a change in my life. This could have also come from me not vomiting up the anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills I was taking along with my food.
I think the digestion of pills, did make a difference I wasn’t so unhappy with myself or my image. I became less secretive and my childhood bubbly-ness shone, only a little but still, for the first time in 4 years. That wasn’t the only thing that started to shine. When I went out on the weekend, I wasn’t vomiting, or taking laxatives, so alcohol started to take its effect. I was so desperate for social attention I would indulge in alcohol, (now I’m talking 2 ciders and a tequila) and it would result in me becoming the most hilarious girl that night, I wasn’t shy and I could talk to anyone, it was marvellous. I was that girl who would be dared to do something and with no questions would just jump into it. I was also one of the first girls to smoke, so I was super-hardcore (kidding).
This drinking was mild, accepted, if you will. I was the naughty one who drank and smoked. I was happy when I drank because I was funny and people enjoyed my company, and of course they don’t tell 16-17 year olds who are underage, that when taking anti-depressants it’s not wise to drink on them, as it will result in deeper depression or have the opposite effect. I got into a cycle of thinking people only liked me when I was drunk. I was only funny and fun when I was drunk. So here is where my drinking spiral started, I was either sober, sensible, boring wallflower or the crazy but cool girl, which was followed by depression/’losers’. Rock and a hard place, I thought. I had to sacrifice one or the other, so I sacrificed… the sensible one.
I was caught vomiting countless times. And my excuse ranged from, me saying I had a headache, or the food was too rich or that I just felt sick. My excuses ran out, and what ever I told my mom or whoever was concerned, they knew I was lying. People knew I was bulimic and I kept trying to deny it, but eventually I was just exhausted. I was tired of psychologists, and seeing as though I had three at one time, I would have to repeat the same story three times. Except for that one psychologist who tried to stop herself from yawning but I could see she wanted to as her nostrils grew bigger and her lips grew longer. I didn’t really talk in her sessions. And then the psychologist who had a beige walled office, beige picture frames, beige chair and couches, beige clothes and a really beige personality, she was a real treat.
Because I was under so much surveillance, and I could see I was damaging my mother physically and emotionally. It became too hard to keep up with bulimia. It was like a job, I had to be dedicated and committed and willing to do whatever it took to benefit. But I noticed my whole life was slowly crumbling, as I said I was destroying my family, getting help from every sector and not taking it, and my academics dropped drastically. Look I was never going to be the Dux Scholar, but I was bright, I was just lazy as all hell. But my main focus was on my weight and it had to stop.
I spent every second break time in my biology teacher’s classroom; writing out the path of a blood cell or the path of lipids during digestion, each 10 times. One of the English teachers who I never really liked, told me I was stupid and the biology teacher said I was going to fail matric so I might as well give up now because I am ‘NOWHERE!’ so school as you can imagine, was a really motivational and inspiring space for me. I cried after school basically everyday because I had been labelled as less than average, and in my mind I told myself I couldn’t do the work because I wasn’t smart enough. Scary how much teachers impact our lives and lead us into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure or a feeling of worthlessness.
I wanted to prove them wrong, along with some of the girls, who never took what I said in class seriously and who thought I was actually stupid. I tried really hard to eat healthily, I did go to gym everyday but I was eventually back on track and eating properly. I felt good and confident after having no ambition, no drive to do anything vaguely challenging. I was ready and I was going to make a change in my life. This could have also come from me not vomiting up the anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills I was taking along with my food.
I think the digestion of pills, did make a difference I wasn’t so unhappy with myself or my image. I became less secretive and my childhood bubbly-ness shone, only a little but still, for the first time in 4 years. That wasn’t the only thing that started to shine. When I went out on the weekend, I wasn’t vomiting, or taking laxatives, so alcohol started to take its effect. I was so desperate for social attention I would indulge in alcohol, (now I’m talking 2 ciders and a tequila) and it would result in me becoming the most hilarious girl that night, I wasn’t shy and I could talk to anyone, it was marvellous. I was that girl who would be dared to do something and with no questions would just jump into it. I was also one of the first girls to smoke, so I was super-hardcore (kidding).
This drinking was mild, accepted, if you will. I was the naughty one who drank and smoked. I was happy when I drank because I was funny and people enjoyed my company, and of course they don’t tell 16-17 year olds who are underage, that when taking anti-depressants it’s not wise to drink on them, as it will result in deeper depression or have the opposite effect. I got into a cycle of thinking people only liked me when I was drunk. I was only funny and fun when I was drunk. So here is where my drinking spiral started, I was either sober, sensible, boring wallflower or the crazy but cool girl, which was followed by depression/’losers’. Rock and a hard place, I thought. I had to sacrifice one or the other, so I sacrificed… the sensible one.
Friday, 9 March 2012
An Obsessive Commitment
To get back to the or rather my story: my laxative dependence was monitored,
and stopped all together actually. I was told to see the woman from Tara who I
mentioned in my previous blogs. But after copious amounts of blood test, ECG’s,
MRI’s, doctors, hospitals and a couple of psychologists, a woman from Tara didn’t
scare me.
We spoke about my disorder and how and why I was so scared of food. It wasn’t
the food it was carbohydrates, if I ate carbohydrates I would need to get rid of
them. She said we would start slow. One provita (cracker) a day in my lunch box,
just one. I was even too scared to eat that, sometimes I would eat half and gym a
little longer in the afternoon, or throw the whole thing away all together. I was
TERRIFIED. Eventually she worked me up to 3 a day and that I could not get my
mind around. They also landed up in the bin or I gave them to a friend. I would
not let them get inside me and destroy the work I had done. I continued to gym
excessively and deny my body of carbohydrates. I was also told not to do too
much exercise as my heart was probably still under a whole lot of pressure. Did I
care? Certainly not. But I wasn’t clever then, obviously, and I was still weak but
still committed to losing more weight.
Now because I was being watched, I couldn’t go into the shops alone, of if I did I
would have to bring back slips to show laxatives were not on the receipt, or to
show the correct change was there. It was difficult to enjoy a good meal without
feeling guilty so I did start vomiting up my food occasionally that is when I
wanted a scone or a pizza or something to that extent. When I vomited it wasn’t
easy, I had to train myself in my own step‐by‐step guide, if you will, of how to
successfully bring up my food. The problem with vomiting, although you don’
constantly feel ill like one does on laxatives, the effects are the same. I vomited
up all my fluids, electrolytes and salts, all the essentials to keep a body
functioning. The heart needs a medium, fluid or plasma, to pass the red blood
cells around the body and to the brain, so when there is no fluid, oxygen cannot
get to the brain, leaving the body in a bit of a mess. I was always light headed and
weak, my vision got blurred not too badly though and my hearing went a little
off.
The few hours before my dietician appointments had changed since I had lost
weight. Let me explain. When I was small in age but bigger in size, I would take
apple cider vinegar to school. Someone once said if you take a teaspoon of it
every morning it will speed up your metabolism. So in typical me style, the
extreme, I would drink half a bottle of vinegar at 2nd break that was probably at about
12:30 in time for my appointment at 14:00. In my mind it would shave off half a
kilo, then I wouldn’t get a mouthful from the dietician. It usually worked, but
drinking half a bottle of vinegar to the point of gagging, it was not worth it. This
attitude had changed slightly however, before the dietician I would drink a litre
and a half of water, which can basically make the scale say 1.5 kilos have been
put on and when the psychologist asked me if I needed the toilet (I had to go to
the toilet before I weighed in), I would say no and jump on the scale. I was
praised for putting on non‐existent weight. It was marvellous. But it did not do
wonders for my insides.
Vomiting like laxatives gave me a raw throat, I got calluses on my knuckles, my
skin was not ideal, my hair was unhealthy and my nails peeled off before they
even began to grow. And despite the amount of self‐tan I used, my skin did get a
yellowish tone to it, which is a side effect of an eating disorder.
I hated going out with friends, only because I envied them, they were allowed to
eat. Watching them slip pizza into their mouths with such ease and freedom no guilt at all. I
just drank coke lights pretending that they gave me the same amount of
satisfaction. I never ordered food out, I always said I had eaten, or I had just had an
ice‐cream or something.
I noticed a friend of mine was behaving in a similar way. Telling everyone how
much she had eaten. Before I had finalized my opinion about her having a
disorder, I observed her behaviour. Denying food, drinking water, in my
opinion…my tricks. The one afternoon we were at lunch she ate a meal and then
excused herself. I knew her game and I knew I could play it so much better than
she could. She took a while in the bathroom and when she returned I went into
the bathroom. There was one cubicle so I knew she was there. (This is how
obsessed I was) I could smell vomit and I could see the oil film that blanketed the
toilet bowl, and I remember thinking to myself if a person is going to vomit they
have to do it properly so no evidence is found. I knew the tricks I was a
professional.
I found this in one of my diaries from 2006. And I’m a little disturbed by it
actually;
1. Drink lots of water before a binge.
2. Wait a little have a cig or watch some tv, keep occupied for 10minutes
3. Use the basin not the toilet, this way you can tell exactly what has come up and
what hasn't.
4. Open window widely to get rid of smell.
5. Wet hand before.
6. If you vomit in the toilet make sure you lay toilet paper down first so that the
sound is muffled.
7. Lay toilet paper over vomit and flush, if film is still there, place more toilet
paper inside and flush.
8. Wipe all mess away from under the seat and around the upper bowl.
9. Wash hands and basin with hot water.
10. NB! Be gentle, when possible avoid calluses.
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Feeding Knowledge: Meaning in Disorder
Meaning of the disorder:
There are four factors to mention that of pride, power, hurt and protection.
Pride:
Teens with perfectionist tendencies, a diet becomes a major focus. Losing weight is praised, "I wish I had the will power you do to say no to cake and sweets." These sort of comments lead to a sense of pride in the individual, their values, self-esteem and a sense of accomplishment. When it gets taken to far and people start making recommendations of putting on weight, the ill person will see it as though the other person is jealous of their weight loss, especially seeing as though weigh and the perfect body image had been so focused on in society and the media.
The ill person may feel that they are unique in terms of body and shape that increases their feeling or self worth. (Taking this into account I used to feel worthless before I discovered laxatives they made me feel alive, they made me feel real as oppose to a wallflower of lard.)
Power:
People with these illnesses may find that they hold a lot of power in the family, which results in a feeling of strength within. For the first time in their lives they may feel they have complete control over something. If this feeling of power is enjoyed, the only way they can use it, in their minds is through the eating disorder as oppose to other areas such as school or friendships, thus making the illness even more profound.
Hurt:
In addition to the above, children may begin to realize how much hurt they are causing those closest to them which ultimately makes them feel worse. When this feeling arises, they tend to turn to the eating disorder as a coping mechanism, here again a vicious cycle.
Protection:
They may discover that with the eating disorder, their feelings of hurt are numbed and that other previous worries seem less important. The disorder becomes their prime focus, and over time develops into something familiar and comforting. Not eating provides a ‘high’ in my opinion, being in control and happy, as the disorder becomes a means of organizing their seemingly chaotic lives. It also serves to protect young people from the fear of growing up and maturation. (Disorders may stunt growth due to lack of the right nutrition, as well as take a toll on puberty, which was mentioned in the previous blog. Some females become too thin that their body stops menstruating.)
There are some changes in food behaviour that may be noticed with a child who suffers from an eating disorder:
Eating in silence. Preoccupied with the food and eating process.
Prolonged time ingesting their food
Playing with food, pushing it around the plate.
Excessive use of salt and spices on food.
Unusual mixes of different foods
Excessive gum chewing
Excessive drinking of coffee and tea, caffeinated drinks (diuretics)
From the same book I have mentioned, there is a list of what the eating disorder means for the child that I think is rather interesting. How they feel when they have the disorder:
I am now unique and special.
I feel virtuous and pure.
Not eating allows me to feel in complete control of my life.
Not eating makes me feel happy, straight away.
This makes me feel that I can do what no one else can.
Eating means I am a failure.
Eating means that I am weak.
I need to punish myself by not eating.
I don’t deserve to eat. If I eat, I don’t deserve to go out this evening.
Not eating allows me to be the centre of attention.
Not eating allows all my other worries to go away. This is all I have to focus on.
When I don’t eat I divert my attention away from other events. Ie. Arguments
When I don’t eat I feel empty. This is comfortable.
Not eating allows me to lose my period. I don’t want my period.
I don’t want to grow up.
The eating disorder is who I am.
I must say I have to agree with all of these but especially the last one. The eating disorder became who I was, as if I was living for the disorder. I focused on nothing else; read every label, every gram of fat was taken into account. If I couldn’t find laxatives I would buy 6 packets of sugar-free chewing gum, eat them but swallow the gum, all 6 packets, only because on the back I read, "excessive consumption may cause laxative effect." The eating or rather purging of food gave me a purpose, something I had lost a few years back.
There are four factors to mention that of pride, power, hurt and protection.
Pride:
Teens with perfectionist tendencies, a diet becomes a major focus. Losing weight is praised, "I wish I had the will power you do to say no to cake and sweets." These sort of comments lead to a sense of pride in the individual, their values, self-esteem and a sense of accomplishment. When it gets taken to far and people start making recommendations of putting on weight, the ill person will see it as though the other person is jealous of their weight loss, especially seeing as though weigh and the perfect body image had been so focused on in society and the media.
The ill person may feel that they are unique in terms of body and shape that increases their feeling or self worth. (Taking this into account I used to feel worthless before I discovered laxatives they made me feel alive, they made me feel real as oppose to a wallflower of lard.)
Power:
People with these illnesses may find that they hold a lot of power in the family, which results in a feeling of strength within. For the first time in their lives they may feel they have complete control over something. If this feeling of power is enjoyed, the only way they can use it, in their minds is through the eating disorder as oppose to other areas such as school or friendships, thus making the illness even more profound.
Hurt:
In addition to the above, children may begin to realize how much hurt they are causing those closest to them which ultimately makes them feel worse. When this feeling arises, they tend to turn to the eating disorder as a coping mechanism, here again a vicious cycle.
Protection:
They may discover that with the eating disorder, their feelings of hurt are numbed and that other previous worries seem less important. The disorder becomes their prime focus, and over time develops into something familiar and comforting. Not eating provides a ‘high’ in my opinion, being in control and happy, as the disorder becomes a means of organizing their seemingly chaotic lives. It also serves to protect young people from the fear of growing up and maturation. (Disorders may stunt growth due to lack of the right nutrition, as well as take a toll on puberty, which was mentioned in the previous blog. Some females become too thin that their body stops menstruating.)
There are some changes in food behaviour that may be noticed with a child who suffers from an eating disorder:
Prolonged time ingesting their food
Playing with food, pushing it around the plate.
Excessive use of salt and spices on food.
Unusual mixes of different foods
Excessive gum chewing
Excessive drinking of coffee and tea, caffeinated drinks (diuretics)
From the same book I have mentioned, there is a list of what the eating disorder means for the child that I think is rather interesting. How they feel when they have the disorder:
I am now unique and special.
I feel virtuous and pure.
Not eating allows me to feel in complete control of my life.
Not eating makes me feel happy, straight away.
This makes me feel that I can do what no one else can.
Eating means I am a failure.
Eating means that I am weak.
I need to punish myself by not eating.
I don’t deserve to eat. If I eat, I don’t deserve to go out this evening.
Not eating allows me to be the centre of attention.
Not eating allows all my other worries to go away. This is all I have to focus on.
When I don’t eat I divert my attention away from other events. Ie. Arguments
When I don’t eat I feel empty. This is comfortable.
Not eating allows me to lose my period. I don’t want my period.
I don’t want to grow up.
The eating disorder is who I am.
I must say I have to agree with all of these but especially the last one. The eating disorder became who I was, as if I was living for the disorder. I focused on nothing else; read every label, every gram of fat was taken into account. If I couldn’t find laxatives I would buy 6 packets of sugar-free chewing gum, eat them but swallow the gum, all 6 packets, only because on the back I read, "excessive consumption may cause laxative effect." The eating or rather purging of food gave me a purpose, something I had lost a few years back.
Feeding Knowledge: The False Truths
Surprisingly, eating disorders are not just an issue with food and eating, they are symptoms or results of underlying problems. The controlling of weight and food intake is used as tools to help with problems in a person’s life that ordinarily would seem almost impossible to solve. This is important: both restriction of food and binging, actually provides a way to numb feelings and emotions for a short time, until of course, they need to do it again which is the vicious cycle of the disorders. Others will use it as a sort of comfort (Katzman, D.k. & Pinhas, L., 2005).
Now here are some false truths about the disorders, what people perceive as truth and what is ACTUALLY true (Katzman, D.k. & Pinhas, L., 2005).
F# you can tell by appearance if someone has an eating disorder…
T# Well, not all anorexics are underweight much like how not all bulimics are skinny and not all bingers are overweight. Everyone’s appearances are different, genetics, allows for all individuals to be of a different size and shape. All of these disorders are serious mental and physical health problems, but they are not dependent on size or shape, and not all skinny girls have a weight problem, as this may be simply genetic.
F# People with anorexia do not eat rubbish food, sweets and takeaways…
T# Anorexia is not about the TYPE of food eaten but rather the AMOUNT of food allowed to enter the body, which is balanced or cancelled out for energy use.
F# Anorexics do not binge or purge, bulimics do not restrict…
T# Anorexics do have binges which may result in purging, some will purge even if a binge has not been had. Bulimics restrict food intake, eventually the body starts to crave certain nutrients and a binge will result, thus the binge purge cycle mentioned in the previous blog.
F# People think a person is bulimic only if they vomit or make use of laxatives, diuretics and diet pills as a form of getting rid of food…
T# excessive exercise, fasting, or food restriction (skipping meals) are also forms of bulimic behaviour.
F# boys with eating disorders are gay…
T# although the risk of an eating disorder is higher in homosexuals, both anorexia and bulimia effect straight boys. (I did know a boy, who, on telling him about my problem of occasionally vomiting, he spoke about how he too vomited up meals to keep fit for hockey. He was a jock, an ex-boyfriend of mine, also one of those 3 week ones. I thought he was lying, or just really strange).
Now these next ones I find very important to take note of, not only in terms of the blog, but other readers who know of someone or who are someone who has/had an eating disorder, and possibly need the truth or perhaps an explanation for the ‘methods in madness’.
F# people with eating disorders come from a broken/dysfunctional family…
T# The cause of eating disorders are not entirely known, however teenagers from all types of families have been recorded to have had eating disorders, so family is NOT the cause, family or the support thereof is the solution. If someone has an eating disorder in the family it may make way for a feeling that the family is dysfunctional but this is more of a self-fulfilling prophecy.
F# People with eating disorders, have the intention of hurting their family and friends…
T# observing the effects of an eating disorder on an individual may be extremely pain-full. BUT people with eating disorders do not always do what they do with the intention to hurt those closest to them. In fact, they tend to protect their families from knowing and perhaps feeling the emotional pain that they are going through, this is the secretive nature of the illness.
F# Those who binge or who are always eating are fat and lazy…
T# Binge eating is a serious disorder. It too has to do with emotional pain, and tough circumstances. They express emotional hurt through food, and those that binge eat do need to be treated for the illness. Diets are NOT the treatment.
F# You cant die from an eating disorder…
T# Eating disorders have one of the highest death rates of any psychiatric disorders. Death among teens with disorders goes between 5% and 9% and up to 20% in adults. Bulimics and anorexics are equally vulnerable.
F# Recovering from an eating disorder is like recovering from alcoholism…
T# While they are both coping mechanisms, they do differ in the recovery process. One way to recover from alcoholism is to stop drinking all together, recovering from an eating disorder requires steps to be taken, learning how to eat all kinds of food without compensating or having such a fear and guilt attached to food type. Unlike alcoholism, one with an eating disorder cannot simply stop eating.
Now here are some false truths about the disorders, what people perceive as truth and what is ACTUALLY true (Katzman, D.k. & Pinhas, L., 2005).
F# you can tell by appearance if someone has an eating disorder…
T# Well, not all anorexics are underweight much like how not all bulimics are skinny and not all bingers are overweight. Everyone’s appearances are different, genetics, allows for all individuals to be of a different size and shape. All of these disorders are serious mental and physical health problems, but they are not dependent on size or shape, and not all skinny girls have a weight problem, as this may be simply genetic.
F# People with anorexia do not eat rubbish food, sweets and takeaways…
T# Anorexia is not about the TYPE of food eaten but rather the AMOUNT of food allowed to enter the body, which is balanced or cancelled out for energy use.
F# Anorexics do not binge or purge, bulimics do not restrict…
T# Anorexics do have binges which may result in purging, some will purge even if a binge has not been had. Bulimics restrict food intake, eventually the body starts to crave certain nutrients and a binge will result, thus the binge purge cycle mentioned in the previous blog.
F# People think a person is bulimic only if they vomit or make use of laxatives, diuretics and diet pills as a form of getting rid of food…
T# excessive exercise, fasting, or food restriction (skipping meals) are also forms of bulimic behaviour.
F# boys with eating disorders are gay…
T# although the risk of an eating disorder is higher in homosexuals, both anorexia and bulimia effect straight boys. (I did know a boy, who, on telling him about my problem of occasionally vomiting, he spoke about how he too vomited up meals to keep fit for hockey. He was a jock, an ex-boyfriend of mine, also one of those 3 week ones. I thought he was lying, or just really strange).
Now these next ones I find very important to take note of, not only in terms of the blog, but other readers who know of someone or who are someone who has/had an eating disorder, and possibly need the truth or perhaps an explanation for the ‘methods in madness’.
F# people with eating disorders come from a broken/dysfunctional family…
T# The cause of eating disorders are not entirely known, however teenagers from all types of families have been recorded to have had eating disorders, so family is NOT the cause, family or the support thereof is the solution. If someone has an eating disorder in the family it may make way for a feeling that the family is dysfunctional but this is more of a self-fulfilling prophecy.
F# People with eating disorders, have the intention of hurting their family and friends…
T# observing the effects of an eating disorder on an individual may be extremely pain-full. BUT people with eating disorders do not always do what they do with the intention to hurt those closest to them. In fact, they tend to protect their families from knowing and perhaps feeling the emotional pain that they are going through, this is the secretive nature of the illness.
F# Those who binge or who are always eating are fat and lazy…
T# Binge eating is a serious disorder. It too has to do with emotional pain, and tough circumstances. They express emotional hurt through food, and those that binge eat do need to be treated for the illness. Diets are NOT the treatment.
F# You cant die from an eating disorder…
T# Eating disorders have one of the highest death rates of any psychiatric disorders. Death among teens with disorders goes between 5% and 9% and up to 20% in adults. Bulimics and anorexics are equally vulnerable.
F# Recovering from an eating disorder is like recovering from alcoholism…
T# While they are both coping mechanisms, they do differ in the recovery process. One way to recover from alcoholism is to stop drinking all together, recovering from an eating disorder requires steps to be taken, learning how to eat all kinds of food without compensating or having such a fear and guilt attached to food type. Unlike alcoholism, one with an eating disorder cannot simply stop eating.
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