EA Resources | My Eating Disorder – a Story of Fear and Faith

It is easy to look back and see I how got there. It is easy to look back and see how I started the journey back. Although at the time, I didn’t see the signs that led me in, or led me out. Somehow when you are in the midst of a struggle, all signs seem to vanish. That is why I write to you – I hope that my signs might help you in your journey.

My pathway to an eating disorder actually began in high school.

I am naturally shy, and so finding a place to fit in has always been a struggle. While active at my church, I didn’t really make friends, and so my closest friends were at my school which I had known for most of my life. I also had my family. I have two brothers, and a mom and dad who supported and loved me. I don’t blame my shyness; it was just a piece of my puzzle.

I was extremely active in dance. I spent many hours in the studio learning how to move, train, and control my body. Although, all body types are accepted in dance, there is great pressure to fit the mold. Rehearsals and performances were done in minimal clothing so that our bodies could be seen and our movements critiqued. I don’t blame dance; it was just a piece of my puzzle.

I also have also been diagnosed with a mild case of synesthesia, which means a hyper-sensitivity of taste and smell. At times, my senses would connect. I don’t blame my condition; it was just a piece of my puzzle.

I graduated from high school, and went to a large public university. This transition rocked my world. It was a huge school that made me feel invisible. I had decided to not party, which created a sense of isolation from the secret bond that all party-goers seem to have.

But I now realize that I had never had to make friends before. My friends had always come from my parents friends, or from dance. I was separated from my family and friends for the first time. My mother had always been my best friend, and the loneliness I felt was extremely strong. I would sometimes call my mom, and just cry because I couldn’t talk.

As I struggled to make friends, I began to withdraw. I had time to think – too much. I had time alone – too much. Depression and anxiety raged in my emotions, and I was struggling to regain control of how my body felt.

During this time, I didn’t drift from my faith, but it became much more developed. For the first time in my life, I actually had to rely on God. I daily had to rely on His love and presence as I felt alone.

I did have one good friend – Alyssa. While she was a great friend, she was not the best influence on me at the time.

Alyssa was the first friend that I had who had an eating disorder. I would eat most of my meals with her, and meet her regularly in the gym (often so that I simply had something to do). I loved working out, and I loved being healthy so not much really seemed to change. I did worry about her, and so rather than think about how I was changing, I focused on her. Slowly in my mind, my perceptions of her habits went from unusual (like a meal of just carrots) to healthy.

Over that year, her habits became mine, and I slowly slipped into a place where I lost sight of what healthy was.

The fear of the “Freshman 15” kept me in the gym. Everyone said that it was unavoidable. I was no longer dancing and playing soccer, so I had to find some activity to keep me from gaining weight. Instead of gaining 15 pounds, I lost 15.

I began talking with my mother about Alyssa’s struggles, while she started becoming worried about mine. After several months of listening, my mother started to talk to me about my own weight.

In spite of my struggles, I didn’t want to leave the school, because to leave would be to admit that I had made a mistake. So I registered for classes in the fall, and arranged for my housing (with Alyssa as a roommate). Everything was perfect – except I was completely unhappy.

During spring break in a moment clarity (that only God could give), I told my mother that I was not going to return to school. I knew that God had called me to a new place.

This became a turning point where I would start making steps towards health, but it didn’t happen overnight. In the years to follow, “Mentor-ventions” were done by my boyfriend, my roommates, and other adults who loved me. Through these difficult times, I finally admitted that I had an eating disorder.

New environments are always helpful with those tying to break habits. I had new roommates, a new schedule, and I was much closer to my family who continued to provide accountability and support. Through it all, my parents were extremely helpful. As a child, they never made comments about my weight or eating habits. I never felt like my parents disapproved of me, or my struggles. They stayed calm, and never blamed me by saying this was my fault or choice.

There was one day when my mother did break down in front of me. Normally able to listen without sharing her emotions, the weight on her heart this day was too much. She cried that she didn’t want to lose me. She confessed her worries that I would destroy myself and my future chances of having a family. At first, I was mad at her because she made me confront the reality of my health. My mother suggested that I see a counselor, and I am thankful that she did. I would not have sought help without it.

I delayed counseling because, I didn’t want a problem too big for me. I thought that seeking counseling would be a trap that I would become reliant upon. I then grew to acknowledge that I might not need it forever, but there is also nothing wrong if I do.

One thing that I have learned is that when you are in crisis. Your parents are in crisis, and when they are in crisis, it is almost impossible for them to do nothing. They need to do something. So in order to keep communication open, and our relationship healthy, I gave my mother a defined role. I let me mother know what she can do, and what she cannot do. It might be a small role, or a big one. When boundaries are crossed, I remind her of how I most need her.

It is also amazing to look back and see where I have come. I felt as if each step was done in fear and trembling, but I now see the courage that I truly possessed.

A step towards admitting my problem. A step towards admitting that I needed help. A step towards allowing my family in. A step towards allowing a counselor in. Each step was instrumental towards healing my soul and body.

My journey is not over, but I hope that where I am today will help you in your journey.

-Anonymous interview of an Emerging Adult. Written by Dr. G. David Boyd

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