TW: Eating Disorder

Disgusting. A word that perfectly describes how I feel when I look at all the wrappers and empty bags around me. Or, how I feel during class when the only thing I can focus on is my hunger because I have not eaten for days. However, the times I truly feel the epitome of the word is whenever I look in the mirror. I observe all the multitudes of harms I have put this body of mine through, whether it be denying it food, or feeding it too much. As I sit in my empty kitchen, surrounded by the remnants of my destruction, I feel tears prick my eyes. The war inside of me feels as if it will eternally wage, twisting and distorting my image of self until I no longer recognize the person in the mirror. Although eating disorders have damaged both my mind and body, I realize that my healing does not mean the damage disappears but that it no longer controls me. 

As I reflect on my past, as a now 17-year old, I come to realize that eating disorders controlled most aspects of my life, specifically my late middle school and early high school years. While it may have begun as simple acts of childhood mischievousness, like stealing sweets when Mom was not home, it eventually turned into an insurmountable addiction. Oftentimes I would look at the other girls in my class and wonder why I was not as petite as them. I would spend my time scrolling aimlessly through social media, glowing green with envy as I gazed upon all the girls I wished I looked like. Thus began my descent into the horrors of my disorder, an iron hold that dictated my every waking moment. The source of my problems seemed to stem from how I perceived my body image and as I witnessed many of these internet models seemingly have no appetite, I knew I could control my appetite as well. Many times I would simply bring a fruit cup, or even a small bowl of instant noodles, to lunch, though I was often unable to stomach it. I would feel sick at the sight of food and would shame myself if I gave in to my hunger. Sometimes, my friends would comment “Aubrey, is that you’re eating?”, or “You hardly ate!” In a way, these comments made me feel proud as it was clear that I had made some progress towards limiting the amount I ate. However, when this supposed progress was not reflected in my body, I was disheartened. Even though I had denied myself sufficient food for days, my body still seemed to not show any signs of change and it began to negatively affect my mental health. Eventually, I would succumb to my hunger and binge eat. Afterward, I felt ashamed of myself, wondering why I could not be normal like everyone else. I would constantly be in a tug of war with myself, with my brain telling me to fast a little longer and my stomach urging me to consume. 

My recovery process began in my junior year of high school. Not only did I begin to repair my body image, but also my relationship with food. Although I have never gone to therapy for my struggles, I believe that this was something that only I could solve. My first part of recovery was learning to accept and love myself. While it may sound cliche, self-esteem was a major contributing factor to my eating disorders. I began to try to compliment myself instead of insulting myself, which proved to be difficult as there was always a voice in my head demeaning me. Additionally, I tried to listen to my body more, tuning in to when I wanted to eat and when I didn’t. However, it was still difficult for me to recover on my own, especially since I had not told family or friends about my struggles yet. That being said, even though social media had negatively affected me in the past, it actually helped me during my recovery. At the time, and even now, people were becoming more open about struggling with eating disorders. Seeing the multitudes of people who had also experienced the same things, made me realize that I was not alone. I discovered coping mechanisms and even found the courage to discuss the topic with my family and friends, who were more than helpful. 

While I still periodically go through episodes, I have mainly recovered from my eating disorder. Sometimes, I look at old pictures of myself and wonder why I thought that I was not good enough, and why the need to look a certain way led me to harm myself both mentally and physically. Even now, I find that I experience relapses, which include not eating or binging, during times when I go through periods of low self-esteem or stress. Although I am disheartened at these relapses, I know that not all recoveries are perfect. Each day I find new ways to heal myself and, if I were to give my younger self any advice, I would tell her not to be too hard on herself, to remember that her perception of herself is not reality. That what she perceives in the mirror as being disgusting or ugly, is nothing but a warped image that her mind has tricked her into seeing. 

Even as I approach closer and closer to adulthood, I still contain remnants of my younger self. I wake up some days feeling discontent with what I see, but my recovery has led me to understand that those times are when my eating disorders can ensnare me and pull me into those depthless pits. But, I refuse to allow myself to be gripped with the same debilitating feelings my younger self fell victim to, that if I wish to truly heal myself, I know I must heal her first.