Disordered Eating

When I start to sing I hear my own voice ringing out bright and beautiful; then I hear her voice in my head: "You sound like a screeching cat when you sing." I was thirteen years old when she said that; we were standing in the kitchen and I had just started singing a song that I loved.

MOTHER:

My mother is 5'1 and I am 5'2.

My entire life my mother has gone into the bathroom by herself and then closed the door and came out to tell me that she weighs 104 pounds. Then I must go in and weigh myself in front of her... 112, 118, 122, 127, 135, 140, 152. It doesn't matter what I weigh the response is always the same, "whoa - that's a-lot!"

However, with my always fluctuating weight, if I would come down a few pounds from the previous weigh-in then she would say, "you better come out here and eat something and prove to me that you are not anorexic".

FATHER:

What is the funniest joke in the whole world to my dad? A fat joke. Especially a fat joke about a woman.

"Fatty Fatty Two-By-Four, Ass So Wide Can't Get in the Door" 

My mom, myself, my aunts, and any friends that my mom or myself brought home. He would call all of us fat, to our face, and then laugh when we would get upset.

He would say awful things about the women that he saw on television. He would make rude fat jokes about women loudly in my ear when we were in public, and I think those women would hear him, and I would tell him to SHUT UP. And he would laugh and tell me to learn to take a joke. 

He tried doing the Fat-Jokes on my step-daughter. She was 12 when he called her Thunder Thighs. That was the only time I ever seriously stood up to him and said you CANNOT do that or we will leave and not ever come back.

SELF:

My first memory of using food to soothe me was when I was five years old. I had a 12 ounce Star Wars glass and I filled it with sugar and kool-aid mix. I remember sitting in the stairwell and slowly spooning it into my mouth.

My next memory is from the same time frame. We had neighbors who lived in the house next to our apartments. They went on vacation and I climbed in through the kitchen window. I opened a box of chocolate cake mix and sat on their kitchen counter and ate the whole thing with my fingers.

My next memories are a bit later and over a larger time frame; I would say 5-14 years old. Some weekends I would get to stay at my grandma's house. For breakfast she would make me sourdough toast and put butter and homemade strawberry jam on it. I would eat slowly while she was still in the kitchen then she would go to take a shower and I would sneakily, with my heart racing, make two more slices of toast with twice as much butter and jam on it. I didn't want her to think that I was "greedy" or a "pig" so I would eat it and clean up the mess before she was out of the shower. If I ate too much at home I was called a greedy pig and I was told to "save some for someone else".

During the same time frame I would also spend some weekends at my aunt's house. And she always had two to four boxes of cocoa pebbles and I would eat them all; sometimes on the first morning so then I would have to eat another cereal that I didn't like as much the second morning. At home I was only allowed one small bowl of wheaties.

I was always a skinny kid and always kind of hungry. Then high school and puberty. In high school I would throw away my packed lunch that was "healthy" which was usually a sandwich, 8 ounces of chips, and a piece of fruit. And I would buy the gooeyest-cheesyest-greasyest slice of pizza and soggy fries from the cafeteria. I was bullied from junior high school on so I never ate in the cafeteria. I was either sitting outside alone or sitting in my boyfriend's car. 

Then driving and fast food came into the picture. A cheeseburger at McDonald's was .35 cents. I ate a lot of those. And candy from the convenience store. And soda. I always had soda in my life. There is a picture of me as a baby being held with a glass soda bottle up to my mouth like a baby-bottle. We used to always have a 2 liter bottle of coke in the fridge. I honestly do not think that I ever consumed a single glass of water until I was 19, my boyfriend at the time was into health and was always telling me to "chug this" water and to stop drinking so much soda. 

When I was 17 years old I had an abusive boyfriend. We would eat four or five chicken little sandwiches at KFC while sitting in his truck then something would happen (or nothing would happen) and he would scream and yell about it and then he would hit me. Afterwards we would make up by going to his house and grating a pound of tillamook cheddar cheese and melting it on flour tortillas.

When I was 18 I started dating a divorcee. I on average weighed 120 pounds at that time. He was still in love with his ex-wife and would always talk about her beauty, thinness, and how she was a ballerina. And how he wished they were still together and would never be able to love again because of her. The first time I vomited after eating was when him and I were at McDonald's. As soon as we finished our meal I got up and went to the disgusting bathroom, stuck my finger down my throat and puked. It splashed back into my face. I didn't think about it. I didn't plan it. I didn't consider what I was doing. I just did it. I didn't know anyone else who did that and that was before the internet and social media. I thought it was just me.

I occasionally vomited after that. Not regularly. I started taking laxatives regularly. The laxatives made my bowels move so fast that I would take my multi-vitamin in the morning and less than an hour later I would pass it out, undigested.

I stopped vomiting in college. Not because I realized how wrong it was or because I got healthy. I stopped vomiting because it was bursting blood vessels in my forehead that looked like acne. So I just took more laxatives instead.

I was sexually assaulted and had an abortion at the age of 21. Then had what I now think of as a nervous breakdown. I saw a therapist who diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. She gave me Zoloft and that made me feel so much worse. I stopped taking it suddenly without help and I stopped seeing her, I just didn't show up for our last appointment and never returned her calls.

I went to taco bell every single night at about 10pm, after having barely eaten all day, and I would eat 5 crunchy tacos - a nacho - a gordita - and anything else that sounded good. I would need 10 packets of hot sauce. Sometimes I would go through the drive through twice. I gained 35 pounds in just a few months and completely trashed my gallbladder. I weighed 155 pounds on the day of the surgery to remove my gallbladder which was my highest weight.

When I had my gallbladder removed I was given no dietary guidelines. I tried to resume eating as normal but EVERYTHING made me sick. I pooped my pants. I had no idea what was going on. So I went to see an herbalist who explained that the gallbladder digests fat so I needed to eat less fat. And to detox my liver. She gave me herbs and I started learning about food; a little. 

Everything I ate was still processed but it had no fat. I found a book called the three day detox. It is a three day juice fast that includes a daily enema. 

After that I ate very little (1000 calories a day and less than 10 grams of fat) and I had at least one enema a day and I would frequently fast for 3 days. I lost 50 pounds in 8 months. I was 105 pounds and I had 4% body fat. I stopped getting my period.

Then I married an alcoholic. I was depressed and anxious and lonely and sad and hurt. I was also ashamed of myself for having married the "wrong guy". I would starve myself for the first half of every day trying to make up for the night before. But then when evening would hit I would have a big dinner. Then a trip to Burger King for a whopper and fries. Then a trip to Dairy Queen for an XL large cherry cheesecake blizzard with extra cheesecake. I kept having enemas and taking laxatives. When I got a divorced I weighed 140 pounds.

Two months after the divorce and I was back down to 115 pounds. I ate a 10 oz salad for lunch, lettuce/chicken/salsa. And a hot pocket for dinner. I would share the hot pocket with my dog. I would also drink a pot of coffee and 3-4 energy drinks and a 6 pack of coke every day. All while smoking a pack of cigarettes every day. I also continued to have enemas.

Then a new relationship. A healthy one. A good guy. But yes, he did come with his own complications and drama. I continued to have enemas but convinced him and myself that they were healthy. I started changing my relationship with food again. I became a vegan. I ate a lot of bread and processed meat alternatives. And I went back up to 140 pounds.

Then, finally, everything changed for me. For Good. I started getting mentally healthier. I was married to a good man who loved me. Seriously loved me! I was seeing a therapist. Finally, I was correctly diagnosed with PTSD. Catherine was a gentle spiritual woman who saw my fear of prescription meds and instead of pressuring me suggested St John's Wort, Codependents Anonymous and Yoga. I loved all three and saw immediate results in the way I felt. 

The St John's Wort literally turned off the inner critic in my mind and allowed me to BE without judgement. Codependents Anonymous allowed me to see the unhealthy toxic relationships in my life that were triggering me to act-out with food. And Yoga, which I had been occasionally practicing since freshman year at college, became a life-line and a bridge between my body, mind, and spirit.

I learned the difference between processed foods and whole foods. I cut out processed foods and sugar. I stopped having enemas and taking laxatives. I started running. I read so many nutrition books (not diet books). I studied hard. I looked at myself. I looked at the compulsive nature of my actions. There is no difference between an eating disorder and an addiction. I also think it is like a lot of other self-harm behaviors. The pain and guilt that I felt after eating far too much food was a huge distraction (and relief) from the pain and the guilt that I felt just from being me. I had to learn to love myself. I had to stop punishing myself and I had to let go of the toxic people in my life who continued to put me down and make me not like myself. 

I have been a healthy weight and had a healthy relationship with food for eight years. I weigh 125 pounds. Currently, what works for me, is eating 3 meals a day and, in general, not snacking. I don't eat dairy or gluten or sugar. I find all three of those foods trigger me. Physically and Psychologically. They give me tummy aches but make me want to eat more or them. As does processed foods. I follow the 90% rule...

90% Whole Unprocessed Foods - 90% Plants - 90% Organic

Why not 100%? Because when the "rules" get that strict, I also find it to be triggering. 

In my opinion, the only way out of an eating disorder is to deal with the issues, deal with the past, the low self-esteem, the trauma, the abuse. Therapy helps. Learning about nutrition really helps. But most importantly surrounding yourself with healthy loving people helps. Love Heals. And being true to your values. And loving yourself. It has taken me a long time to get myself to a point where I can say I LOVE YOU TANYA and truly mean it. Please love yourself.