Do Eating Disorders Ever Really Go Away?

(A while ago, we had a great discussion on here about body image. You can go here and here to check that out.)

When I rediscovered my essential dancer self and decided to immerse myself back into that life, I became so energized that I initiated an intense daily workout that I have been really awesome about sticking to. I never miss a day. As I wrote about here, rediscovering this passion has had some unexpected results.

But there has been one negative result of this focus that is difficult to write about, but here we go. No perfection allowed here on blisschick and this chick is no exception!

(Note: Posting a picture of myself here is very difficult when I am feeling less than perfect -- which means I would rather NEVER post one.)

My first diet was initiated for me when I was not even four years old. I was raised by two parents obsessed with weight. I was surrounded by other women obsessed with weight. I am part of a culture obsessed with weight.

Up and down, my weight would go. I was never technically overweight, mind you, but I was never perfect or thin enough for those around me.

My mother discussed every bite of food that went in her mouth. My father discussed every bite of food that went into her and my mouth.

My father would point at people as we drove past them on walking trails and say things like: "Now she'll have to walk around the world to get rid of that ass!" or "Why is she out in public? That's not nice to the rest of us."

By the time I was in college, you can imagine how much I hated my body. Hated it.

In college, I had a pretty serious bout of exercise bulimia. I would eat and I would exercise. But then I got to the point where I wasn't bothering so much with the eating part of that equation.

Every time I eat food, I think about the fact that I am eating food.

Every time I see myself naked, I think about how giant my thighs are or how pudgy my tummy.

When I am too thin, though, you can bet I am at the peak of a depression.

Well, I haven't been "too thin" in many years thanks to a thing called "Happiness" and another thing called "Unconditional Love" supplied by my partner, Marcy.

I have suffered from severe depression and anxiety and all sorts or health issues in this life, and let me tell you, there is nothing harder than this food and body thing.

Nothing harder.

But I've been doing pretty well with it.

Until I rediscovered my dancer self.

At first, I was fine. I was totally committed to health. I did not alter my eating habits. I was simply adding the workouts.

To really dance, I do need to be a bit lighter. But mostly, it's about developing strength, balance, and grace.

As my time gets closer to go to my Yoga Dance training at Kripalu, though, I have felt some inner panic welling.
Here's the reality: I may "know" that I am about 20 pounds "overweight" but you never would guess it.

I have begun to hear my father's voice: "How can you think about showing yourself there!?"

About two weeks ago, it got bad. I was pinching my parts in disgust as I would get into the shower.

I could feel my inner self-hate speech picking up speed. I was feeling angry all the time and looking for places to put it.

Then one day, I "forgot" to eat lunch.

Marcy said that was the red flag that told her we had to talk, but she was getting afraid. When I am in this place, I am hard to reach, to say the least.

But guess what happened? A minor miracle.

I am the one who initiated that talk.

I sat on our back stoop and confessed: "I'm not eating enough and I can feel it in my brain."

I cried about the hate I was feeling for me.

Marcy comforted me. We talked about what I need to do to stay healthy and sane.

Then we went out for a big breakfast of eggs and sausage.


(Photo & Text Copyright: Christine C. Reed, blisschick.net, 2009)