It's true, I first got sick as an adolescent. I remember - as vividly as if it happened yesterday - sitting in the lunchroom at Mount Elden Middle School, a few days after a violent sexual assault, thinking, "My body is the problem. Stop eating, shrink my body, that's the solution." That was the beginning for me, the first seed of what would grow to be a catastrophic, potentially deadly eating disorder.
That was fifteen years ago. I am an adult now, with a husband, children, a job, a mortgage. And this morning, at breakfast, I thought, "I don't have to eat this. I'm too big. I can be smaller." (For the record, I ate breakfast anyway.)
It is a very common misconception that eating disorders are "teenage girl" diseases. It is believed that they are reactions to unfair and inaccurate media portrayals of ideal body types, and while that is indeed true, anorexia and bulimia are far more complicated and pervasive than many people understand. I have been in treatment with women in their twenties, thirties, fourties, fifties, SIXTIES. Women who, at their stages of life, "ought to know better." Here's the truth: age ain't nothing but a number.
I am dancing on the edge of the big 3-0. Does that mean I have a rock-solid understanding of my place in the world? Does that mean I have a tremendous respect for my body, my self? Nope. It means I'm in year fifteen of a disease that still threatens my life every day, every meal. The specifics are different, of course. I no longer have collages of painfully thin models and actresses adorning my walls. I no longer visit pro-anorexia websites, trolling for tips and tricks. Who has the time? And besides, after this long, I know all there is to know. Rather, my triggers and my soft spots have matured right along with me.
Now, as an adult, the meaning of my thinness is more defined, more literal. I still struggle with the idea that a small, androgynous body is a safe one. If I am tiny, I am not a target. If I am sick, I will be okay. Also, parenting itself is a challenge. Nothing in the world can make a person feel more out of control than being a mother. There are little people for whom I am responsible, and no matter how hard I try, they will bring up my inadequacies. Can't control my children... but I can lose weight. Let's take that a little further. I can't make my spouse do what I'd like him to do all the time... but I can lose weight. I can't make enough money to do what I'd like to do right now... but I can lose weight. My body is the one thing I know I can master, and in a terrifying, unpredictable adult life, mastery is rare.
Anorexia and bulimia may strike most often during the teen years, but make no mistake, there are women you know - women you see every day - who suffer. We want so badly have it together. We want so badly to feel like we're good at something. Understand, if you can, that we're not immature. We're not stuck in an adolescent fantasy. We're sick, and we're desperate.
Fortunately, we also have some of the most powerful incentives to get well. My body was amazingly resilient ten years ago. Now, not so much. My heart conditions make even the slightest descent into eating disordered-behaviors potentially deadly. I don't have the luxury of youth to help me bounce back. I also have those aforementioned little people watching me all the time. I might like to believe that they don't notice what I do, what I eat, what my attitude towards food is, but that's a lie. Children are incredibly perceptive, and mine notice everything. Do I want to teach my kids that dessert is never okay? That the only acceptable body is a sick one? Of course not. I also have the adults in my life - my friends, my co-workers - who have seen me fall and get up and fall again. Their love and support in the face of my struggle is inspiration enough to make the right choices.
My challenge is this. If you are an adult struggling with an eating disorder (or "disordered eating," which includes all manners of dietary or exercise preoccupations), please reach out. Talk to someone who understands. Seek compassion, empathy. Get the support you deserve. Adulthood brings with it the hope of fulfillment, and fulfillment is impossible in the grip of anorexia or bulimia. If you are a friend or family member of an adult who is struggling, please hear this: We need your presence. We need your validation. We need your hugs, your willing ears, your open hearts.
Teenagers with eating disorders have it rough. I know, I remember. But we adults may have it even tougher, because we feel like we're not allowed to experience what we do. Help us help ourselves. Help us break free.
