Over a year ago I was depressed, sad, lonely, anxious, and to top it all off, I stopped eating. For some reason I decided that the only way to gain some control back over my life, and my emotions, was to just not eat. I’d sleep in, wake up, and have a coffee. Then I’d go to class, or watch tv, and distract myself to supress feelings of hunger for hours… until it began to dissapear. I blamed my stomach issues, and my mental health issues, on food as a whole, and somehow convinced myself that if I stopped eating, I’d feel better.
While I started to like my slimmer body, I was numb to the fact that I was killing myself. I was weak, shaky, tired, and lazy. I couldn’t stand for long. I couldn’t walk for long. I couldn’t talk for long. I could feel my ribs, I could see my ribs… and in the sickest of ways, I loved the way I looked… I loved being ill, I loved making myself sick… because it was my decision, and although I was weak, I felt powerful.
My body had become so unhealthy that people began to notice…and talk. My cheeks had sunken in. It was only when friends and family stopped telling me I looked good, and instead started asking me if I was okay, that I woke up.
I can’t explain how or why I suddenly began to notice that my mind was a mess, but I did. I became mad that I had been so stupid and was causing self harm. I realized my bigger problem was mental health and anxiety, and I had been searching for control. I had started treating my body badly because I felt badly about myself, and was looking for a coping method.
While I was never offically diagnosed with an eating disorder, I have deep empathy for those who have. For those few months in my life, my food intake consumed my thoughts… 24/7. I couldn’t stop thinking about how to avoid meals. I also couldn’t stop inspecting my body in the mirror…for hours at a time. I couldn’t stop weighing myself. I was obsessed and I didn’t even see a problem with it. I had latched on to a new habit to cope with my mental illness… much like how others may cut themselves, or drink excessively.
Thankfully, through a lot of hard work (and a lot of eating whatever the hell I want), I have since gained the 25 pounds I lost last year, cut gluten from my diet (the main reason for my stomach issues), and have again taken control of my mental health.
In honour of Body Image Week, I decided it was important for me to share my story, and the poem below, as our relationships with eating can become so complex… so scary… so frustrating… and so harmful. It is also SO important to take care of your mental health, as a healthy mind is commited to a health body.
Please reach out to friends who may be slipping into one of the complicated relationships with food I mentioned above… you could be the one to make them “wake up” and decide to fight for their own health again.
BODY IMAGE: A Poem
B- inging, late night, until I feel sick enough to throw up, which I actually want to do, by the time the guilt sinks in that my stomach is growing, and throwing up, might feel better than being mad at myself, for what I just did.
O-ver thinking, every little detail, the things I ate today, yesterday, and what I’ll eat tomorrow, never leaves my mind, it’s always in the back, of my head, just waiting for the reminder I receive, every time my stomach gargles, and says just feed me.
D-ieting, is what I tell you, so you wont notice, that I’m no longer, eating anything at all, I’m starving, but eventually, the ache goes away, my stomach shrinks, and I am pleased, but not really, it could always be, smaller.
Y-ou start to notice, I wont touch the dish, I use to crave, I avoid your invitations, I look down, make a fist, to resist, the bowl of creamy pasta, sitting in front of me, the meal I’ve always loved, but now can’t bare, to even stare at, for I know I’ll think about it, for days after.
I feel no control, I cannot stop the negative feelings, I am feeling, about what is going on, I am sad, but I am also weak, for I wont eat, my body is shutting down, and I am mad, at myself, I will starve myself as punishment, for not feeling good enough, cause maybe that will make me feel, something.
M-y rib cage is showing, I’m no longer growing, but shrinking, into nothing, and it pleases me, I see the difference, I like to feel the edges, of my bones.
A- woke from the nightmare, shook my head, fell in the shower, from lack of everything, no longer standing, because it’s too hard, I am always cold, shaking, I cannot breathe, my body is shutting down, turning against me, for turning against myself.
G- etting help is hard, it’s scary to admit, that you’re happy being sick, happy being small, happy being not happy at all….
E- very day’s a blessing, for you’re progressing, you’re doing well, and that’s more than good enough.