I was eleven when the eating disorder that had been stalking me succeeded in capture. Eleven years old and convinced that all the wrong feelings, fears, and insecurities would vanish if I could just get thin enough for perfection and protection.

I knew I would be proud of myself when that day came, and why not? Who wouldn’t love perfection? I was promised a multimodal perfection as well – the perfect body, the perfect face, the perfect personality, and the perfect life.

If only I wasn’t starting with such deficits. If only I wasn’t fat, gross, and disgusting. How I came to be so flawed so young remains a mystery. Still, with a little diligent work, perfection, freedom, and happiness would be mine.

Fade to thirty-six years later and the desperate misery of the bulimia nervosa that had been my reality for decades. Fade to do-or-die.

A bit about eating disorders.

• Eating disorders are serious mental illnesses. There’s a high risk of death by suicide with eating disorders; nearly 12% of sufferers will attempt it. Someone dies from an eating disorder every fifty-two minutes.
• 2.4 to 4.4% of the population will develop an eating disorder. It tends to emerge in adolescence but can show up both earlier and later.
• Eating disorders cost nations billions of dollars in both treatment and loss of work. Both women and men suffer from eating disorders though women are afflicted more.
• It’s common for people with an eating disorder to have another mental illness. Strong comorbidities are found with anxiety and depression.
• Eating disorders are influenced by various personal and sociocultural risk factors including biology, body image issues, weight stigmas, trauma, and a family history of mental illness.
• Most people won’t get better on their own.
• Recovery is possible but challenging.

Things that helped.

I was initially going to tell the story of how I got better, but the story is actually still a work in progress. My primary diagnosis was bulimia nervosa. I would binge and purge, or just purge the food I ate as meals every day, often multiple times a day. I also tend to the anorexia subtype, so restricting food is my jam when I’m not binging.

Letting go of the skinny brain is proving a special challenge.

I started trying to get better after my first suicide attempt at nineteen. You don’t have much choice after that – your issues have been outed.

I’ve had counsellors. I’ve had groups. I’ve had psychologists and psychiatrists. I’ve had inpatient and outpatient treatment. An eating disorder is an intractable beast. Recovery is an expensive proposition.

If you think you know someone who has a problem, talk to them. If they bite your face off, they definitely do, so persist. The first rule of the eating disorder is, “we don’t talk about the eating disorder.”

Even after people knew, questions from family and friends about my weight, eating habits, or how things were going would fill me with rage. I think part of the problem was that I interpreted every question as, “Better yet?”

There was also the guilt. No, things were not better yet.

I would wake up every day and promise myself that today was the day I would be normal. It’s kind of like quitting smoking that way – you promise that every day is the last day, and every day you start again. I would be normal. I wouldn’t binge. I wouldn’t purge. I wouldn’t cut. I would stick to my diet, lose weight, and be a good person at last.

Failing over and over for years is hard on the ego.

(Fun fact – I wasn’t able to quit smoking until I quit vomiting up my food. Our habits aren’t solo events – I had a lot of behaviours tied to my eating disorder. Smoking was one, self-harm was another.)

I got better because I had help. I got better because other people kept trying to save me. I also got better because I kept trying. Don’t forget to give yourself credit for the things you do.

I got better when gave up the “one true way” and “recovery has to be perfect” mindset. Perfectionism is a big part of eating disorders – you have to step away from it and embrace “good enough” if you want freedom.

I got better when I started working on the non-food stuff. I got better when I started believing that there was more to the problem than fatally weak self-control.

I got better when I started practicing boundaries.

No boundaries, no control. Eating disorders give you the illusion of control, though it’s only an illusion. That becomes apparent the moment you try and step off the track.

Anniversaries and pride.

On November 1, 2024, I will celebrate four years without purging. I should buy myself something nice.

Eight years ago I entered what I hope will prove to be my last inpatient treatment stay. I was abstinent from my eating disorder for most of my time there, and it was a glorious relief (though eating what they expected was a challenge), but it was only the beginning of my recovery.

That’s why coming to understand that stumbles aren’t failures is important.

I purged two weeks after I got out. But I was able to dust myself off and hold the new line again for a couple more weeks. And then a few more after that. And then for a month.

That first month was a miracle. I’d gone from vomiting more than a thousand times a month for decades to nothing. That was when I first started to think recovery might be possible for me. And now here I am.

Four years of mostly sober eating.

I still spend too much time trying to stay thin. My thin is also too thin in the general course of things. I’m still too willing to embrace underweight as the preferred body type. But, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Four years ago also marked thirty-nine years with an eating disorder. Recovery is possible, but the longer you’re in, the longer it takes. Patience is a recovery virtue.

But be proud of the road so far.

Give yourself grace.

Recovery is no small thing.

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