Body Image Activist, Eating Disorders mamaVISION

This guest post is from TwistedSister,
a 23 year old woman from the UK. In this post, she relays her
perspective of an incident that occurred when she was 13 years old,
struggling with mental illness and anorexia.

—-
Being looked up and down is never nice for anyone to endure, but
when you constantly have people doing it, it makes you wonder what is
so wrong with you that people feel the need to do it.

I have been constantly criticized on how I look and what I eat.
Mainly from family and females. Men have done it too but the main
judging has always come from females. Being judged by how I looked cut
me to pieces.

I remember one time that really got to me when I was out at the
shops to get milk for my mother. I walked around the shop looking for
what I needed, and I could feel someone looking at me. I always kept my
head down, ashamed of myself for even being in the public eye and I
tried to be as invisible as possible,  but I could feel someone looking
at me.

Without looking up I tried to find the person whose eyes were
burning into me, and then I saw her. She was probably in her late
teens, and she was just staring at me, I couldn’t understand why. She
then started whispering to her mate that was standing behind her and
started pointing at me. I heard them both laugh as they  kept pointing.
When the girl realized I could see her, she started shouting at me.

“What’s wrong with you?!” she yelled.

I kept silent.

“You look a mess. No one will ever fancy you. You will never get a boyfriend because you look like crap” she said.

She went on with the tirade —telling me my hair was dry and
horrible, that I was spotty and had fat legs. Before I could respond,
to this girl the cashier told me to come forward. As I walked to the
counter I could feel the eyes watching me as I moved, it felt like I
was in a freak show and the audience were watching the freak come to
the stage.

While I was paying the girls continued to laugh, then two boys
walked in and joined the queue with the girls. They asked what the
girls were laughing at and they told them they were laughing at me and
the state of me. They then joined in too, one boy shouted hey lard ass!
This made the rest of the group cackle like a bunch of bloody hyenas.

I paid as quickly as possible; I just wanted to get out of there and go home and hide.

“You don’t have a fat ass,” the cashier whispered to me as she
handed me my change (which I should have known seeing that I weighed 6
stone 3lbs). “They are just  jealous. Ignore them,” she said.

I nodded and ran crying my eyes out towards my house.

I hid in a bush for near on a hour, in tears, wondering what was so
wrong with me that people felt the need to keep hurting me, telling me
I wasn’t good enough and that I was fat. I believed them, I thought
that if so many people believed this was true well then it just must
be. I wiped my eyes and crawled out the bush, kept my head low and
walked home.

Soon as I got home mother started her usual rant about how long I
had been and what the hell was I thinking taking so long. I tried to
explain.

“What? Did ugliness stop you from walking? Or did your legs keep rubbing together so it got harder?” she preached.

That’s what I was asked.

I kept silent.

I put the milk on the counter along with the change and ran to my
bedroom where I shut the door and hid under my bed. My self esteem was
in shreds, I hated myself, I cut myself, on my legs, to see the blood
was for some reason refreshing to me, it made me feel a little better
but not enough.

So I then crawled out from the under the bed and stuck my fingers
down my throat trying to get every ounce of food, water, anything out
of my body. I wanted to be thin, I believed I was fat, I needed to
change to make people like me. I wasn’t good enough to have friends or
a family that loved me, so I needed to become thinner in order to be
liked.

I hated myself so much, I have never felt hatred like it and the voice in my head fueled this hate.

I was convinced my body was ugly and the only thought in my head was — I am never eating again.

I still get judged today, people stare at me as if I am a puzzle
that needs working out or a math question that confuses them. Girls and
boys alike shout obscene things at me as I walk along the street. I
still have low self-esteem, and I still feel bad about myself
sometimes. I am trying to tackle these things one at a time.

No one likes being judged, but at the end of the day, I am my own worst critic.

-Twisted Sister

Purge: Rehab Diaries by Nicole Johns

I read this book in two days.

It arrived in my mailbox on Friday, I started reading it Saturday, and last night I stayed up way the heck too late to finish it.

Generally, it takes me a few months to finish a book, partly because I usually have two or three going at the same time, and I am a slow reader. But this one would not leave me be.

PURGE, rehab diaries by Nicole Johns is not for the weary.

This is a raw, brutally-honest, grotesquely detailed novel. The pages resonate pent up anger, unsettled circumstance, and disgustingly-gross-but-real purging episodes described in painful detail.

Damn, it’s good – because it is so real.

John’s takes the reader through her experience as a size 9, EDNOS patient,  living for a summer in an Eating Disorder Center in Milwaukee (my home town, which made this reading more intriguing, because literally drive past the places she refers to throughout the book on a daily basis).

One of the coolest parts is the book design, adorned with a great cover art and interesting fonts throughout. Inside, copies of Nicole’s actual treatment papers are scattered about; names and addresses blacked out in bold black lines, handwritten journal entries detail each and every evil calorie, and even an official definition of “Normal Eating,” which drove home the pathetic level we sink to with an eating disorder.

But the most important thing about PURGE, is it addresses, head on, the problem EDNOS patients face. EDNOS stands for Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. Huh? Ed who?

For the record;

EDNOS sufferers are not underweight, in fact, they are more often overweight.

EDNOS sufferers look normal, all the while lurking below the surface is a young vital heart struggling to keep ticking.

EDNOS sufferers are blown off the vast majority of the population, until of course they faint, whack their head, suffer a concussion, and need to be hospitalized.

EDNOS sufferers can have blood pressure readings near zero, completely out of whack electrolyte levels, and most commonly live with a raw, burning, sometimes-ruptured esophagus.

Needless to say, John’s represents the “typical” EDNOS sufferer weighing 137 pounds, all the while popping diet pill cocktails, starving, purging, and binging until she is hospitalized for fainting which leads to the real diagnosis: a concussion, electrolyte imbalances, and three different kids of heart-rhythm irregularities.

She writes PURGE to “inform the public, counteract myths surrounding eating disorders and treatment, and provide eating disordered individuals with hope.”

I think you’ll agree, she accomplishes all three,

-mV

————

Why not post your own story? Tell us what you experienced in an eating disorder treatment center, and help others along the way.

During National Eating Disorders Awareness Week, I attended a presentation at Marquette University by Jenni Schaefer, the author of "Life without Ed."

As I walked to the presentation room, I caught a glimpse of the cool window art created by Marquette students, and I was impressed!

Schaefer presented to a group of about 200 people, a mixed crowd of students, parents, and press.

I would describe her style as soothing. 

As she spoke, her soft, genuine expression, lit up the room, even as she held up a yellow, dance tutu that she wore at age 4…the age in which Ed 
came along.

Ed, in this case, is not an abbreviation for Eating Disorders. "Ed" is what Schaefer named her disorder. She admitted that when her therapist first brought up this idea, it seemed a bit nutty, but she gave it a try. Opening herself up to the concept of treating her eating disorder as a relationship rather than an illness or condition, started her on the road to recovery after
decades of struggling.

"Ed and I lived together for more than twenty years. He was abusive,
controlling, and never hesitated to
tell me what he thought, how I was
doing it wrong, and what I should be doing instead. . . Ed is not a
high school sweetheart. Ed is not some creep that I started dating in
college. . . Ed's name comes from the initials E.D. —as in eating
disorder. Ed is my eating disorder. —from the introduction of Life Without Ed.

If Schaefer is anything, she is a shining example of hope for full and total recovery. Here are the four main points I noted from her presentation;

Ed was a tool she used to recover and made her realize;

1) I am not an illness. The concept as Ed as a relationship created separation in her mind.
2) Ed gave her something to fight for- fight Ed not herself!
3) Responsibility was now on her shoulders, excuses were no longer possible.
4) Gave the hope she desparately needed to recover.

Perhaps this is a concept you have never considered for yourself as you go through recovery or consider recovery?

Read more here;
Life Without Ed
Jenni Schaefer Site
Jenni Schafer Blog