EDAW19 – When did you first know you had an eating disorder?

I suppose first knew I had a real problem in my early twenties. But it honestly isn’t as simple as one day you’re ok and the next you wake up knowing that you have an eating disorder. There’s a lot of back story, well for me anyway. And whilst I perhaps didn’t think that something was relevant at the time, I look back now and it seems so clear, so obvious that it was a contributing factor. For the most part, I was a pretty confident teenager. With a background in dance and performing arts, I was active, strong and a bit of a show off. I had a steady boyfriend from the age of thirteen to sixteen and I don’t ever remember having any real body issues or body dysmorphia at this time.

My first ever experience of weight gain was when I was diagnosed with arthritis in several of my joints, aged 16. I became quite poorly very quickly and the combination of strong steroids and no longer being as active obviously took its toll on my body. The difference wasn’t even massively significant but this is perhaps the first time that I realised that what I ate and/or did could could have consequences physically.

Once I had gotten through my GCSEs and A-Levels I decided to take a GAP year before University. My health was better and I wanted to take some time out to save money but also to have some additional life experience. And to be fair, I had a blast. I got to do some amazing things and I learned a lot about myself and other people. So when I left for University, I was pretty sure I had it all figured out. But this is, in truth, where the problems started. Being in such a big city made me feel invisible, inferior even. My two closest university friends were beautiful and both naturally thin. And even though I was probably no bigger than a UK size 10, next to them I felt fat. I was the fat one of the group. Nobody ever said this of course, it was just the way that I felt. And I had never experienced anything like that before in terms of body image. I can still remember the level of hurt. How I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough. This, sadly would be a recurring theme.

It was during my second year of University that I decided to go on a diet. (I’m not honestly  sure I ever stopped being on one after this). Nobody batted an eyelid, and why would they? Lots of people go on diets, especially young women. It was during this “I just want to lose a bit of weight” phase that I somehow stumbled across pro-anorexic websites. I was fascinated and in hindsight now, I realise that I was triggered. Whilst I didn’t aspire to be like the skeletal images on the sites, I could see that they weren’t attractive, I just couldn’t look away. I spent more and more time there, engaging in chat rooms, filling my head with negative and damaging thoughts. I became addicted, as I’m sure so many people have before me and still do now. I just want to make it clear at this point that I never was nor am I now a “Pro Anorexic”, but I still carry the scars of the things I witnessed on those sites. So whilst I didn’t ever affiliate myself with the promotion of such behaviours, their message certainly penetrated through my rational thinking and I know it most definitely influenced my behaviour.

Once I had graduated I decided I wanted to go travelling along the East Coast of Australia. It was my life long ambition to scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef and I was so excited that I would be ticking that off my list at the age of 22. I had an AMAZING time and I wouldn’t change some of things I got to do and see for anything in the world. But, and it’s a very big “but’, I honestly believe that my travels brought my obviously already existing eating disorder behaviours to the forefront. The way I felt about my body changed dramatically in those three months and when I returned home I knew it was different, it was like everything I felt had been shoved in to overdrive. Shit got serious I guess you could say.

Whilst all this was going on, I had met a man. A man who I would eventually go on to marry. The first man that ever spotted the signs and symptoms of my eating disorder, perhaps even before I had really admitted to myself that I had an issue. I believe that talking to him about how I felt about my body and food may have just saved my life. I’m not sure I would ever have really acknowledged or faced what was happening to me otherwise. I always wondered just how he had managed to figure out that something wasn’t quite right, because I was convinced that I was doing an amazing job at keeping it a secret. So I asked him; and these were the symptoms that he had managed to spot.

• Supermarket Shopping Showdown – I would spend hours in Supermarkets. And even though I found them scary and exhausting,  I also loved being there. He would watch me pick things up, read the nutritional info and then put it back. At this moment in time my head was like a caloric database, I knew the calories in most things and if I didn’t, then I wanted to know. Oh and after all that time browsing the shelves,  we would usually leave with nothing.
• Biting my fingers or lips – I would do this whenever food was mentioned, being cooked or in front of me apparently. It was obviously subconscious as I had no idea.

Was it a relief to finally talk to someone about it all? Yes! It absolutely was. And it was easy enough in the end because I trusted him, I knew that he would keep me safe. And perhaps it’s for that reason that I still didn’t seek help. I still didn’t see a doctor. I didn’t tell my family or friends. I just figured I’d muddle my way through and it would all be ok. I was right for a while of course, but then we fast forward ten years. At age 33 I was referred to eating disorder services with a low heart rate, palpitations and screwed up electrolytes. (Read more about my ED recovery journey here.)

So did my eating disorder go away during this ten year gap that I speak of? I don’t think it ever went away. I think it lay dormant, under the surface, like a predator; waiting patiently for something to happen that would make me vulnerable. And then, when the time was right, it pounced, and it devoured me. I fell harder this time around. And it felt different, it felt like a proper war. And there was never going to be a truce here, only one of us would be the victor.

Maybe it seems odd that I relapsed so significantly at this stage of my adult life. I often think about that too. But now, having had the benefit of forty hours of therapy, I know exactly what happened and why. I had found myself in the centre of so many situations that I couldn’t control – so I instinctively grasped for anything that I could. Food. I could always control my food. And then it was a slippery slope and down, down, down the rabbit hole she went.

I think it’s so important to look back at the things that have contributed to my illness. One, because it’s incredible to see how things can manifest if they aren’t properly dealt with at the time. Two, it’s great to see how far I have come and to acknowledge every hurdle I’ve successfully cleared. And finally, three, I truly hope that reflecting will help me to identify and recognise these feeling or behaviours, should they rear their ugly heads again.

So, as I said at the start of the post, knowing that you have an eating disorder may not be as simple as it sounds. I “knew” for a long time, but I just told myself that it wasn’t a problem; and of course, it really was.

If you are concerned about your behaviour, or the behaviour of someone that you care about please contact BEAT on their UK helpline number. It’s free and confidential. I wish I had spoken out sooner. I can’t change that now but I realise that I could’ve enjoyed so much more life if I had gotten help ten years ago.

Thanks for being here

Beth Anne xoxo