Mind Games

I have to accept that, thanks to my eating disorder, the world appears slightly warped. The problem is that it is often difficult to discern which parts are warped and which are, in fact, reality.

In our everyday interactions with each other, food-related topics are commonplace. Health and nutrition "advice" is everywhere, comments about weight and food are casually flung into conversation, and we all rely on social cues to help us determine what's "normal" and what is not. To a "normal" person, this information is naturally edited- some of it stays, some of it goes, it does not necessarily dictate the course of the day or provoke a significant change in behavior. To someone fighting off an eating disorder, these pieces and parts of daily life create a dangerous minefield of self-doubt, internal questioning, and often negative response.

Before I start to pour this out onto a post, please understand that I do not believe the world needs to change for me just because I struggle with an eating disorder. The fact that it is a "disorder" implies that I am not like the rest of you, and it is my job to process the world in a way that is not warped and triggering. I need to learn to cope within a world that includes comments, conversations, and advice about nutrition, food, and weight; those things will always exist.

What prompted me to write about this was a comment that I received yesterday while at a family party. Keep in mind that there is not a single member of either of our families who is aware that I struggle with an eating disorder, so this provides the perfect example of the perfectly innocent, everyday commentary that has the ability to rock an ED patient to the core.

The Mr. and I attended his mother's 60th birthday party yesterday knowing that we would be going out to dinner to celebrate our belated anniversary later on in the evening. I had already planned to eat a small amount of food at the party so I wouldn't experience guilt about eating a nice dinner later on (that didn't exactly work out the way I had planned).

At the party, I ate a six-inch turkey sub on wheat bread from the sandwich platter. I had a few handfuls of raw vegetables, some fresh fruit, and a very small portion of the whole-grain Greek pasta salad I had brought to the party. At this point, that is about all I can handle, and I felt okay about the quantity and choices I had made. I opted to not eat cake despite the ever-present "Why isn't M. eating cake?!?!" chatter among the group, stayed away from the desserts I knew would bring on the urge to restrict later or purge.

Several hours later when we went to leave, a family member said to me "You're going to still go out to a nice dinner after that big lunch we just had?! How are you going to have room for that?"

Cue eating-disorder panic. Oh my god. She is right. That is totally not normal. I am a fat, gluttonous pig to come to a party, eat what I did, and then still go out to an anniversary dinner with my husband.

That comment, while completely innocent, stuck with me like glue for the rest of the day. By the time we sat down to dinner at a nice restaurant, I was already in a major eating disorder state of mind. I ate my dinner, determined to enjoy it and not let the eating disorder get in the way of a nice night out. But by the time we arrived at another bar for drinks and dessert, I purged in the bathroom without even thinking twice about it. I didn't even process through it enough to text LA beforehand. It was almost automatic, the voice in my head telling me I had overeaten, that it was not normal to eat at a birthday party and then a dinner out, that I had done something very, very wrong.

Since we had chosen to go to the second bar for drinks and dessert, I went ahead and ordered a small slice of maple walnut cheesecake and ate it slowly, trying to ignore the guilt and just enjoy it. I wanted to just start over and forget about dinner. But while eating dessert, I thought to myself: As if it weren't already bad enough that you ate a GIANT lunch at the party, INDULGED in a HUGE dinner...now you have to go and toss dessert in there too, you fat slob. And think of the wine and all the hidden calories in there too. You are out of control. You are disgusting, have no discipline whatsoever, and do not get to just eat whatever you want, whenever you want.

Without a second thought, I made another trip to the bathroom. I felt horrible about it. I should be able to just enjoy a nice anniversary dinner with my husband. And more importantly, I should have texted LA before purging a second time.

These moments happen every day when you are struggling with this disorder: a comment. A look. Someone else obsessing over their own weight or diet. No one is to blame for these triggers. It's our problem. It's our job to figure out how to rewire our brains.

I can remember a similar situation during which I sensed I had overeaten at a lunch date with friends. I had scanned the plates of the others at table (which I regularly do) and noticed that no one else at the table had eaten everything on their plate (mine was just salad with grilled chicken, but I still ate all of it). I immediately felt as though I had done something wrong. How many times have we all heard that we should never eat an entire entree at a restaurant? I began beating myself up for being so ravenous, uncontrolled, and undisciplined. I can't remember for sure, but I must have purged or restricted after that meal because I recall the following conversation taking place in LA's office shortly after that lunch:

Me: "I should not have eaten that entire salad. No one else ate their entire lunch."

LA: "Why do you feel badly about it? There was nothing bad in that."

Me: "Because I should have only eaten half of it. That's what you're supposed to do at restaurants."

LA: (long pause, shocked look on her face) "Wait...why on earth would you think that applies to you?! You are not overweight and you ran ten miles that morning. There is no such thing as portion control in your life!"

And that, my friends, was the day I realized the world I live in (as someone with an eating disorder) was warped. All of the "advice" I had ever absorbed about food had become so jumbled in my head that I was unable to apply it correctly to my own life. That was the day LA told me I needed to throw out everything I had ever heard about nutrition and begin to follow her lead.

In hindsight, I should have applied the knowledge I've gained throughout this process to yesterday's "You're still going to eat dinner?!" comment. Had I done so, I would have realized that:

1. The person who made the comment probably did not even see what I had eaten and therefore had no idea that I didn't eat as big of a lunch as everyone else.
2. The person who made the comment eats like a bird, so even if she had seen what I ate, it probably would have seemed like a lot from her perspective.
3. The person who made the comment had no way of knowing that I had run a pretty fast ten miles just hours before, and what I did eat was nowhere close to even making up for the energy lost on that run.
4. Like LA tells me all the time...I am not a normal person. I am an athlete. So I need to eat a lot more than the average person and IT'S OK.

But, naturally, I listened to the loud, obnoxious eating disorder and followed it right down the path to self-destruction.

That seems to be the case in general this week: the eating disorder has been loud and obnoxious, and the LA/Dr. Joe/Dr. K rational messages are getting lost somehow.

While I have struggled a great deal over the last several days, I do not consider this past week to have been a relapse. In my mind (and I think in the minds of my team, although we've never really talked about it), a relapse would be a full-blown return to not eating and/or throwing up whatever small amounts of food I do decide to give in and eat. If I returned to something resembling that pattern, then I would consider to be relapsed (and probably sent into inpatient treatment somewhere...no one is going to put up with that for very long now that I'm working with people to correct this).

I did, however, purge three times this week, which is a little alarming, especially in light of the fact that some of the medical issues from previous restrict/purge cycles still linger. I seem to have lost the sense of control I gained while on leave and working with my team regularly. I'm trying to find it again.

When talking to Dr. Joe, LA, and Dr. K, it all seems so clear...so empowering. I often leave their offices feeling strong, rational, and equipped with the strategies necessary to ward off the eating disorder when it creeps up. But somehow, in the moment (or prompted by a simple trigger or comment), their wise voices still get pushed back more often than I would like.

At least the mistakes are fewer and further between than they once were. Eventually, they will go away completely, and I'll be able to exist in this food/weight/body-obsessed world without latching on to the innocent comments and conversations that lead me down paths to dangerous territories.

Prior to the incidents this week, I had gone over three weeks without skipping a meal or purging. When studying to become a personal trainer, I learned that it takes twenty one days before a new behavior becomes habit. The healthy new habits didn't permanently stick this time, but the fact that I experienced over twenty one successful days helps to keep me believing in progress.