I was sixteen years old visiting a very close friend at her house. Where the conversation derailed, I am not quite sure. I'm not even sure of all the fine details of that day to be honest. I can't remember if the sun was shining or if I had gone to school that day. I remember I drove my white 1990 Pontiac Sunbird over to her house listening to Sublime. We were standing in the center of her living room right behind her greyish colored couch.
What I do remember; however, is being asked if I've ever tried making myself throw up after eating. I had never thought about doing that ever before in my life. But, I was interested! Why I was interested, I could not tell you, I don't even know how to explain that. I couldn't even tell you what I had eaten that day even if I tried.
The next thing I recall, I was face down in the toilet forcing my fingers down my throat. I remember all this pressure running down into my eyes, my head hurting so bad, and my throat aching. I remember asking myself what in the hell I was doing while sticking my fingers in my throat once again. Next, I proceeded to wash my hands clean of what I had just done. Before I left the bathroom, I remember looking in the mirror at myself with disappointment. I couldn't identify with who I was. I couldn't understand what I just had done to myself, nor why.
When I walked out of the bathroom, my friend asked me if it worked and without hesitating I answered with a No!
I refer back to that very moment as the monumental turning point in my life. That very moment my lies grew larger. I thought for years that exact moment was the cause of my Eating Disorder. I thought that exact moment ruined my years of being happy.
It wasn't until years later, I grew to understand my Eating Disorder began a long time prior to that moment.
There I was 12 years old, standing in the hallway to the bathroom at my middle school with friends waiting to use the restroom. My so called best friend asked me how much I weighed. I told her exactly what I weighed at that time. At that time, I was an immature 6th grader just having fun with friends and goofing around. I was 70lbs and thought nothing about that number. I thought nothing about that number until the next day when we were all back in that same hallway at school and my best friend told me there was no way I could weigh 70lbs. My friend was tall and thin and absolutely beautiful in my opinion. She told me, her mom said there was no way I could weigh exactly what she weighed. I was shorter than her, but there was still no way we could have weighed the same. Automatically I took that as an insult. (At the time it never crossed my mind that maybe her mom didn't mean that in a negative way. Just maybe her mom thought I was too little to weigh 70lbs, but my mind automatically turned that entire scenario into something negative. This never even crossed my mind until I chose Recovery years later.)
I never thought very much of myself from that moment on. I never thought my opinion of myself mattered or was important. If they couldn't believe me, when in fact the scale told me what I weighed, how was anyone including myself, ever going to believe anything else. I remember thinking less of myself from that day forward. I never wanted to weigh anything more. I began obsessing about myself in the mirror and picking apart every detail of my body. I hated going to gymnastics, because now I always felt fat. I always loved being a gymnast until I felt fat.
I realized that I was pretty much nothing.
My body was going to be the determining factor of who I was going to become.
For a young girl, that was a lot of pressure to put on oneself. Maybe if I would have known where that situation and lack of confidence would have led me, maybe I would have fought harder to build confidence and self-love rather than self-destruction.
I didn't want to be friends with these people anymore. I felt like everyone around me was now judging me. I knew I couldn't go through the rest of middle school and high school avoiding people completely. I could however, avoid them when I felt like it and lie when I needed to. I could only make time for purging. I'd be sitting in class right after lunch trying to figure out some way to get to the bathroom. The longer I would have to sit there, the more anxious I became. I couldn't focus on my studies. My junior & senior year of high school were the most difficult. I was dancing as part of the Visual Performing Arts at my high school. Right after lunch I'd have to put on my leotard and slip into the skinnier version of myself. With food in my belly that was hard to do. Naturally, I tried to avoid eating as often as I could. But didn't want anyone to focus on me. I ate, I put on the fake smile, I danced, and then at home I made time for throwing up. I was no longer me, I was a die hard fan of Bulimia.
At this point, I was no longer dealing with only the physical aspects of the Eating Disorder. Nope, now I was most definitely dealing with the mental aspects too.
I'm not sure what's worse. A doctor will tell you the physical aspects have severe consequences upon the body. A Psychiatrist will feed you Meds.
Throwing up daily, sometimes multiple times a day or telling yourself you are fat and ugly becomes addicting. Fat and ugly became the two most used words in my vocabulary for the next thirteen fourteen years. Maybe you never heard me say them aloud, but I promise you they were LOUD and CLEAR in my head.
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| A piece from one of the many journals I kept. This was my normal thinking. |
I attempted everything I could in order to lose weight. I was fixated on the number on the scale, my image in the mirrors, and by the feel of my clothes on my skin. I was no longer this happy little girl I once thought I was. I became a miserable, hateful, and moody individual on the inside trying to make it one day at a time. I was trying to pretend and convince everyone and myself everything was okay on the outside. I remember another friend of mine who told me her mom thought I looked anorexic during a dance performance at our high school. I thought that was hands down the best compliment I had ever been given. I now apologize for ever thinking that way.
In 2005, I am in the middle of another semester of Graduate School studying Mental Health. I was beyond being helped, or so I thought. I for the past years, had tried everything from all the latest diet pills sold on the market, laxatives that left my butt hurting for hours, starving myself for days, binging & purging cycles, excessive exercise, Ipecac episodes that pretty much felt like I had died on the insides, and various suicidal attempts in which did not last very long due to me being scared shitless of death. I couldn't commit to any one thing that would give me the body I so desired to have, the happy I so wished I knew. I considered myself broken and completely unfix-able. By this time I had already had two college roommates call me out on my behavior (which at the time I HATED them for), but only within recovery have come to love them for. By this time, an older woman in my night class whom I began to confide in/ lie to offered to help me. She found me a psychologist, in which I seeked counseling from who specialized in Eating Disorders. These sessions only continued a short time before she diagnosed me as depressed and sent me to a Psychiatrist who prescribed me meds immediately. For the first week or two I felt high on life and what I thought was happy. Soon that high faded and I felt lower than low. I took myself off the meds, soon after quit seeing my psychologist and later left graduate school because I couldn't handle the stress. I had an older sister living in Hawaii, so I decided her pregnancy was good enough excuse to move to Hawaii as any. July 4, 2006 I moved to Hawaii to escape my life. To leave all of my problems behind me. We all know that's not how that works. Problems don't just go away by leaving. They follow you everywhere.
Naturally, I continued my dysfunctional lifestyle, but instead of healing I began searching for more reason to exercise. I bought a gym membership, which gave me the perfect excuse to work out "I didn't want to waste money, so I had to go to the gym." Little did I know the role that yoga would play apart of in my life. I began taking every yoga class I could possibly take. Something about yoga resonated well within me. I for the first time in my life felt as though I could breathe, I mean truly breathe. I could breathe without this insane tightness in my chest or lump in my throat. I was nowhere near being fixed or cured, but I finally thought that maybe I had opened a door to help me find some piece of happy. I took my yoga teacher training October 2006, thinking that might fix me and I had no idea what I was going to do with myself in Hawaii. I couldn't just follow my sister around helping her take care of her son/my nephew. I knew I had to do something with my life.
In 2009, I got pregnant with my now almost now 5yr old son Whistler. At first I was scared as could be. Not scared of becoming a mom or having a baby, but of having a baby turn out anything like me. I never wanted my child to go through the horror I put myself through. I never wanted my child to be scared that I would hate them If they were fat. I never wanted to criticize my child the way I criticized myself. I was fearful of having to weigh myself at the doctors office. That was the most terrifying of all knowing I would have to weigh myself. But I eventually got over it and actually was very happy to find out I only weighed 119lbs prior to pregnancy. I realized that I had to change before this baby was born. This was seriously the Final moment in my life I decided to CHANGE. I had this loving guy in my life who never made me feel ugly or fat, but he wasn't enough to get me to change.He didn't understand Eating Disorders. He tried in his own way, I do recognize that, but he wasn't what it took to change me.
It took my pregnancy to finally CHANGE MY LIFE.
In 2009, we found out we were pregnant, probably one of the most amazing and beautiful days in my entire life. I remember touching my belly privately in our apartment, saying to my son in my belly that I promise I will find Recovery. I promised our son that I would never say another bad thing about myself with him inside of me and I promised that I would never do any of the harmful things I once have done to myself again. I for the very first time made a very real and raw commitment to our son and myself that I will recover from my Eating Disorder. To this day I can honestly say I have committed to my recovery even though at times it is the hardest thing I have had to do. I gained the best 32lbs I have ever gained, I was mentally and physically healthy for this little boy inside of me. I was beyond blessed to be given this opportunity to carry him safely for 9 months. In March of 2010 our son was born. He was the most beautiful and healthy little 8lb 6oz baby boy I had ever laid eyes on. He was my life savor and still is to this very day. I often find myself telling Whistler how much I love him and thank you for saving me. He doesn't always understand why I say that to him, but in time he will.
Its now nearing the end of 2014 and I am no longer trapped by my Eating Disorder. I do have moments of course where I may eat too little or too much, think too little or think too much, but because of what an important role yoga plays in my life, I have learned to breathe and move beyond these moments with light and love. I look at myself in such a different way, in such a way that I feel strong and beautiful for opening up about my struggle with an Eating Disorder. I feel no shame about the countless purges that exited my body. I feel this sense of extreme Freedom. I feel free from this weight I carried around for so long and free from the ugly and fat I once listened to, I once knew.
Because of you (Whistler my son), I am Recovering from a longtime battle with Bulimia. Because of you my dear son, I am who I am today.
Where do I begin? I begin by taking a deep breath and by taking life one day at a time and one breath at a time. I begin by admitting I too have struggled and I have chosen recovery no matter how challenging it may be. I begin by learning to love myself for the very first time.
Where do I begin? Well I think this is a pretty good start and as you get to know me, you will learn to ask me questions and I will learn to share. I will over time remember many more pieces of my life, my truth and begin to write it down.
Bits of me you never knew:
1. A plastic bag became a necessity in my purging episodes. I would bring it into the bathroom to throw up in and hide any sort of mess. Dispose of it at the bottom of the garbage cans.
2. Cereal was my go to binge food.
3. This guy in my anatomy class, whom I thought was popular at that time, told me if I'd wear my hair down I was going to be beautiful.
4. In my first semester at community college this guy friend of mine told me I had a pudgy belly and then he left my house.
5. A boyfriend I had in college told me I needed to smoke pot to calm myself down and not talk so much.
That same boyfriend accused me of purging at his house (which I never did).
6. I was addicted to the scale (I weighed myself more times than I can count).
I WILL NEVER OWN A SCALE AGAIN! !
7. I used to hate going to the beach, to wear a bikini. I would wear shirts and pretend I hated getting sun burnt.
8. Everyone had always complimented my legs growing up, I HATED MY LEGS GROWING UP because my thighs touched and everyone stared at them.
Today they are my most beautiful asset.
9. I used to wrapup my body in plastic wrap super tight before going running in hopes of losing more water weight.
10. The worst was seeing blood in your throw up, running on completely empty and having diarrhea all the time from laxative abuse, and not getting your period until the end of your senior year and missing it for a whole year never knowing when it would come again.
11. I absolutely despised public speaking, it created so much anxiety for me. I hated hearing my voice. And now I'm a Yoga Teacher up front all the time for groups of people. My voice is not hated.
12. I think 5 days was the most I ever starved myself at a time. I thought I was weak because I couldn't hack it like the anorexic. I thought I was disgusting for being a bulimic.
SO THANKFUL I DON'T FEEL THAT WAY ANYMORE.
13. I got so obsessed with purging at one point that I would even throw up after only eating fruit and vegetables. It no longer mattered what I ate, it wasn't allowed to stay in my body.
14. I was so mad when my psychologist diagnosed me with depression. I didn't understand depression at the time. I now know why she did. In 2006 she wanted me to speak on this televised program they were doing on Eating Disorders with NEDA. She thought I was recovered enough to speak to people and would have been the perfect candidate. I wasn't at that time, but I Am now.
15. I'm not cured, but I'm in the process of healing. Do I believe I will always have an Eating Disorder? Yes I do. However, I now know how to work with it differently. I believe it will always take dedication to commit to Recovery.
16. No I was never hospitalized. During graduate school I wanted to check myself into inpatient therapy, but I couldn't afford it and I was scared of what my family would say. I kept this life very much so a secret.
17. The exact gym I bought my membership to, to lose weight, is the very same gym I have now been teaching yoga at for 8 years.
18. The mental aspects of my ED began very early, I say close to 12 years old if not earlier. The physical aspects began age 16. My ED went on and on until I was almost 30 years old. It wasn't until 2014 I began opening up about my ED on Instagram.
19. I don't weigh myself unless I have to at the doctors office. I am NO LONGER DEFINED BY WEIGHT.
20. I never judged other people for their body size. All I could have ever done is hoped for everyone to be heart healthy. I will NEVER blame anyone for my Eating Disorder I can promise you that.
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