Losing control to find myself: Recovering from an eating disorder

Letting this disorder or “sickness,” as some people might call it, control me or my life was never on my bingo list. I never expected that one day I would be dealing with anorexia and an eating disorder.

It happened so suddenly that I didn’t even notice it. I found myself stuck in a hole that I couldn’t get out of and that controlled every aspect of my life. If you were to ask me how it began, I would tell you I don’t know. I can’t recall what exactly happened; it’s all blurry in my mind. I didn’t give it much attention at first, and losing my period was supposed to be a wake-up call, but I ignored it. I thought it was just a missing period, but it then i missed two, three, four, five, six and seven periods. I didn’t wanna tell my mom at first because then I would have to admit that something critical was happening, but deeply, it was very scary for me.

What scared me the most was what it really meant. My body was asking for help, but I didn’t even notice it. I don’t even know how it started. I lost a bit of weight suddenly and then decided I didn’t want to go over that weight. I struggled with two opposite poles.

I went from eating too much to eating too little. When I was at an unhealthy weight, my food consumption was very bad, and I used to eat out of boredom and was eating very unhealthy stuff daily. I decided to change, fix my lifestyle and the quality of my food and learned how to eat everything in moderation. And I stuck to that for almost a year and a half until I fell into the other pole and started eating too little.

I am writing this while struggling with an active eating disorder and choosing recovery. Previously, I used to skip breakfast, eat lunch as usual but in smaller portions, one small snack and a very low-calorie dinner. Sometimes my days would not even reach 1000 calories. It was not intentional at first, and it just stuck with me.

Food became an obsession, and I was scared to eat out or let someone make my food for me because I was not in control. It felt protective at first, but with time, it became draining. And it felt like I was trapped. It was an illusion of control. I never wanted to shrink nor get “big.” I just wanted balance. But that balance became an obsession, and it was taking over me. It controlled me. Checking nutrition labels, obsessing over food all day, as well as fighting over it were draining me. Food was like an enemy, but at the same time, it was the best thing for me. Which is so paradoxical because how can you love something that you constantly fear? I dropped so many kilograms (kgs) after the unhealthy weight, and I maintained my weight after.

I didn’t wanna get help at first. I didn’t even feel sick at all. I felt like I had some kind of power and could control everything. I never starved myself, but I was obsessed and always thinking of my next meals, planning them ahead of time so I could feel safe. I also always counted everything. I was stuck in a spiral that I couldn’t get out of. Every thought revolved around food, which was very annoying but at the same time felt comfortable.

I went to several doctors, lied to my parents, lied to myself, cried in front of meals, but then I chose that I wanted to get out of this. I was more afraid of gaining weight than of losing myself. I sat at the table, nodding along, while my mind counted instead of just eating. I didn’t want to let go of the thing that had held me together. I felt like the doctor appointments, meal times and everything else became a part of who I am.

No one ever said that recovery is easy, but they also never said that it was impossible. In fact, the word itself says (im)possible. This was a big step at first. I didn’t choose it myself; I was forced to, but I’m glad that this happened. If you told me one year ago that I would be dealing with this, I would’ve laughed in your face. Me? An eating disorder? I loved food, and I still do, which was very hard to understand. I used to think about how people with eating disorders found it so hard to get better and how they could look at themselves and not get scared or choose to get better. But you wouldn’t understand it unless you live the experience yourself. People would say that having to gain weight because they need to is the best thing, but seeing the number on the scale go up was the worst thing for me. I want to get better, but seeing this number go up made me anxious, and at the same time, I felt some sort of relief because it meant I was getting better. But again, someone telling me that I look better made me mad. Why? I don’t know. My face was empty with no light. The cheeks everyone loved in me were gone. My hands became like a stick, and I didn’t even like it. I thought that this control was the same as safety, and if I lost control, I would feel like I failed. But failed what? I don’t know.

Despite all of this, I never felt sick enough. I felt normal, like everything was alright. Thinking that I need to gain 10kgs and that my body would change makes me so scared, as well as the fact of getting better. This sickness became a part of me that I couldn’t detach from. It controlled everything in me and the people around me.

I didn’t wanna get better, but I also want to get better. I couldn’t understand myself anymore. I feel disgusting when I eat too much, but i remind myself why I should do this. I lost my period and have a lot of medical problems at such a young age. In addition, I always struggled with anxiety, but it became worse. And I also developed anxiety around food.

Having my family next to me meant more than anyone could ever imagine. They are helping me and doing everything they can and more, and I am unconditionally grateful. Despite the fights, the screams, the cries, they are always supporting me no matter what. I know this is not easy on them, so I want to make them proud. Regardless, even with this disorder, I was doing great at school, which some people would find weird because usually you would have to use a significant amount of energy to focus, and I didn’t have that energy.

While writing this, I am currently choosing recovery. While it is not easy, this journey is making me stronger than ever, and I’m gonna get out of it. Yes, it’s hard, but recovery is something beautiful. Also, I am always thinking about the day I would get my period again and how happy I will be and especially how happy my family would be. They all care about me so much, but especially my mom. She’s been doing every single thing for me and is next to me every step of the way.

I wanna get better, I wanna eat better, I want moderation, neither too low nor too high. I wanna get back to how I was before falling into this cycle. I want to gain my life back. I learned that the only thing that felt close to living is what is actually killing me.

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