by Cara Johnston, guest blogger
You think you can hurt me? I studied for and wrote the MCAT, took a university summer course, and worked a full-time job while also overexercising and starving myself.
My name is Cara and I am 21 years old. It has been two years since the onset of my eating disorder. Yet, little did I know that it began well before then- I have always had perfectionist tendencies. Growing up, I was high achieving, both academically and athletically. This continued into university where I played for the Varsity Women’s Rugby Team and was a straight A student.
When COVID came to be, I was lost. I am a people person through and through and, with social restrictions enforced, I felt as if my reason for living was taken away in the matter of a day. I started putting all my energy into creating a “better me” for when the days of COVID were finally over. I wanted to emerge from the pandemic as a skinnier, prettier, and more desirable version of myself. My excuse? Health. I would explain it as “I’m just being conscious about eating enough vegetables,” or “dairy and sugar just don’t make me feel good”.
I was praised for my weight loss and new “healthy” behaviours. I remember being so proud after hearing this validation from those around me. However, what they didn’t know was that I was the weakest I had ever been: my hair was falling out, and I was missing out on things I enjoyed most in life. I skipped brunch dates with friends and home cooked meals at my grandparents. If I saw oil being used in a meal, I wouldn’t eat it. I would bake obsessively, only to watch with envy as others ate the treats. I ran excessively for months, despite hating running as a form of exercise. I have always had it programmed in me that I need to be the best, and my eating disorder was no exception.
In the depths of my eating disorder, I remember thinking that this was going to be the way things were moving forward. I would watch “what I eat in a day” videos on TikTok, only to “beat” them by eating less. I would panic over adding milk to my coffee or having one too many grapes. Eventually, things got to the point where food was on my mind every second of every single day.
Over a year later, I was tired. I was tired of never having a moment of peace without obsessing over food. I was tired of compulsive body checking and weighing myself. I was tired of being in pursuit of a goal that was literally impossible. However, I was terrified to reach out for help, even when I knew that I was no longer at a point where I could help myself. Even after reaching out to a professional, I was scared to share my story and struggles as I felt I didn’t fit the typical role of someone with an eating disorder. The reality is (and what I wish I knew then) is that eating disorders can develop in anyone and everyone. Your struggles are equally as valid as anyone else’s.
Eating disorder recovery was the hardest thing I have ever done. Overcoming the stigma associated with having an eating disorder and opening up to a counsellor about my struggles took time, effort, and vulnerability that, at my worst, I never thought was possible. Even now, I still have days when I question everything. The eating disorder side of my brain tries to creep back in, convincing me to go back to where I was. However, in my recovery I have built up armour to this voice. Every day, the eating disorder voice gets smaller, and I get stronger. Now, I am at a point where I would never go back to where I once was. I am happy with who I am and proud of what I have overcome. I hope that, from reading this, you know that change is possible. You, too, are strong enough to emerge on the other side.