Kathy D., Silver Linings Volunteer
It has been almost four decades since I struggled with an eating disorder. Recovery, for me, is like a two-step: “one step forward, two steps back”. I’ve conquered the physical aspects of the disorder - and eat healthfully now - but the mental and emotional aspects can rear their ugly heads at times.
As a survivor of multiple childhood traumas, including physical and emotional abuse in one terrible foster home, I wonder sometimes if an eating disorder was inevitable, developed as a way to control something in my life.
My not-so-great relationship with food began in my ‘tweens.
Meal times at the abusive foster home were hell. From the physical abuse of the foster children slapping me on the head as they walked by as I was seated at the table, to the force feeding imposed on me by the foster mother. I was given extremely large quantities of food – more food than an adult could likely eat, never mind a ‘tween girl – and forced to sit there until I consumed the entire amount. Oftentimes during this horror show, I would be physically ill from the over-consumption and still have to return to “finish my plate.”
As a consequence of the force-feeding, and the lack of exercise permitted me by being confined to my room (only allowed out for school and chores), I found myself, at age 13 or so, what would be termed “morbidly obese.”
Eventually, I was moved to another foster home, where I stayed for almost 4 years. The change in environment, coupled with the stability of a long term foster home, meant a healthy weight.
Then, the bottom fell out of my world. My foster parents announced they were moving to the United States. I wasn’t invited. At about the same time, I started dating an older man.
So here I was at 17; a high school graduate, about to be abandoned by the foster family I had lived with for almost 4 years.
I freaked out. When the older man proposed, I accepted and we married shortly after I graduated in the late 70’s. The marriage wasn’t great; my husband was unfaithful, controlling and finances were tight. I was afraid, lacked confidence, and was emotionally and physically withdrawn. At the mercy of my circumstances, I felt like I had little control. This lack of control was a theme throughout my life, starting with the death of my mother when I was in elementary school.
Two years into this marriage, I developed an eating disorder, but it wouldn’t be until 2010 that I actually used the words “eating disorder.” The wake up call was when the disorder caused health problems and I began to eat again. Two years later, the marriage ended in divorce.
Post-divorce, I gained back enough weight to be healthy, and my weight stayed stable for a number of years, until a few years into my second marriage.
In 2014, health challenges forced me to, once again, take a look at my eating habits. I enlisted a registered dietitian to help me with this. Thanks to her, I continue to nourish myself in a mostly healthy way. However, silencing the “eating disorder gremlins” in my head has proven to be a little harder… Unfortunately I struggle with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS)- Something I recently learned can result in disordered eating. With IBS, a healthy relationship with food and your body can be a challenge. I mutter not-so-nice things to myself when my body bloats and my stomach hurts from an IBS flare.
I am still tempted to be quite rigid in my eating, with behaviors I can sometimes wear as a badge of honor or the key to weight maintenance, but the reality is, such behaviors are exhausting. I routinely challenge myself with eating dessert in order to counteract this rigidity.
Today I do my best to keep the “eating disorder gremlins” at bay- I eat consistently and healthfully and avoid weighing myself. Some days I am successful, and the gremlins are quiet. Other days, it’s tough to shut them up. But I’m still here, the gremlins haven’t won, and I know, from surviving the ups and downs of my life thus far, that continued recovery is possible. Recovering from an eating disorder isn’t easy- It takes honesty and consistent work. And, although recovery is not a linear process, it is absolutely worth the effort.
Recovery, for me, is like a two-step: “one step forward, two steps back”. But I’m still here, the disorder hasn’t won, and I know, from surviving the ups and downs of my life thus far, that continued recovery is possible.