In May 2020, during the global pandemic of COVID-19, I admitted to my family and friends that I have been living with an eating disorder for over eight years.
To share this secret of mine, I had a lot to consider - would I feel vulnerable or empowered? What would people say, and how would they react? Would my peers look at me or speak to me in the same way?
Unfortunately (for me), the only way to find out was to bite the bullet, rip off the bandage and say the words out loud.
"For over eight years I have lived with an eating disorder. Deprivation, exercise compulsion, starvation, body checking, 'clean eating', frequent guilt and regret. My body symbolises whether or not I am good enough for others; rules and behaviour traits make me feel 'better'."
Saying this out loud was (a bit of a mouthful) euphoric. It gave me confidence and energy, a weight off my shoulders, and in turn inspired me to set up The Genuine Nut Job. To give voice to my honest experience, what it is really like to have lived and still be living with an eating disorder.
Matt Haig recently mentioned on a podcast that for him, writing about his bout of depression gave him a platform to feel less alone. This resonates with me a lot. Prior to admitting my truth, I felt like the odd one out, the only one living with and (trying to) overcome an eating disorder. A silent struggle. You live with it, you recover (or not), you move on. Because there is nothing normal about the behaviour nor conversation: "How's work? I wasn't that productive and so felt undeserving to eat lunch". (Bold if you do answer like this). To be abnormal from a pre-defined normal lifestyle makes you feel like an outsider, all the more shameful and embarrassing to admit to. So why put myself in this position? It's easier to hide in plain sight, sometimes, literally.
Majority of what I mention on this blog has only been disclosed to my therapist. It's hard to talk about - but the more I do, the more empowered I feel. To face my current reality and identity and determine what future I want to live. To ignore diet culture and its rules. Change how I see things, not how I look. Explain and educate what really goes on behind the closed doors of a mental health illness. Gain understanding and recognition of the daily struggles and pain. To be fearless of what people may think or say about me. Be authentic and open, even when others might not be or if they believe it 'should' be kept private. To overcome an eating disorder and, for anyone else in a similar situation, to be seen.
I read a lot of quotes; however true and inspiring they are, "keep going, recovery is worth it" is too far out of reach. Always a promised future that feels impossible to get to, nothing incorporates right now - what all too many of us are experiencing. Those (lucky sods) have managed to escape and left us behind. Hoping, wishing, longing to be there but with only the eating disorder's support to feel 'better'.
Right now we need more. I do not want to live at war with myself anymore - because if I could eat a f**king brownie without overthinking, worrying or feeling the need to compensate elsewhere, I genuinely would.
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