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Coping with Eating Disorders
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I was chatting with a friend recently about eating disorders. I confessed that I was bingeing and purgeing last winter when I was depressed and gained about 10 pounds. I was self-medicating with food. I would pig out and then I would feel so gross and fat I would throw it up. This went on through most of the winter but I managed to stop this behavior on my own as I made my way out of depression. Consequently, I lost that weight by doing what we are supposed to do: eat right and exercise.

I read that this has to do with self-esteem problems, but in my case it was depression. I am curious to hear from those who would like share their eating disorder story. How or why did it start? If you have recovered, how did you do it? Did you need professional help? Did family and friends play a role in helping you recover?

This isn't just for the women, as many men also silently suffer with eating disorders. For many athletes weight can easily become an obsession.

If you don't want to post with your screen name, you can PM me and I will post the responses. I am a person of integrity and will not share your story if you choose.
Maybe your story will encourage someone to reach out for help.
Last edited by: fitzie: Aug 18, 08 22:49
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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I've always liked food WAY too much to ever not eat, and the idea of throwing up makes me want to throw up (lol) so thankfully I've never had this problem. But I think it is a great idea to discuss it since clearly there are more people dealing with these issues than we even realize (two coming to fruition just today!).

I wish anyone dealing with these battles all the love in the world to make it through.


______________________________________
I know I'm promiscuous, but in a classy way
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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I suffered from an eating disorder when I was a teenager. I was in a very strict ballet school from a young age. Wearing tights and standing infront of a mirror 5 hours a day doesn't do much for the self esteem. The pressue to be thin in the ballet world is extreme, and thats putting it lightly. My teacher called me cottage cheese thighs, among other things. Everything was a compeition. The other girls in my class were my "friends", but each girl would stab the other in the back if given the opportunity. Being the thinnest meant being the favourite. I would eat a small bowl of cereal in the morning and nothing all day until after class when I would eat a yogurt. If my mother tried to make me eat dinner I would pretend to eat it infront of the tv and flush it down the toilet. If I did eat any of it I would cry because I thought that eating was a sign of weakness.

I quit ballet when I was 16. I continued my eating habits for 2-3 years after quitting ballet, but it was less extreme. If I could skip a meal, I would and I would be pleased about it.

I am much better now that I am training in sports that require a lot more energy. Ballet is not stressful on the cardio so I could get away with a caloric deficeit. I don't like being weak when I'm training, but I would be lying if I said that I was completely over my eating problems.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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Much like slink's story, mine started from lots of dance classes as a teenager. I would starve myself and then secretly enjoy the effect it had on my parents. I quit dancing when I went to college and that's when my eating issues moved more into a way of coping with depression and other issues in my life (my father was diagnosed with M.S. when I was 22 and my family pretty much fell apart) Food became one of the few things that I felt I had control over and I would take great pride in how long I could go without eating it. I did a ton of reading on eating disorders and I think this is pretty much the only thing that kept me from going too far over the edge.

My eating stayed fairly disordered throughout my 20's, swinging in the other direction in my late 20's where I put a ton of weight on as I used food to medicate the same underlying depression issues. (By this point I was married and my husband was aware of my food-restricting ways... ) It wasn't until about six years ago that I finally started getting help, initially with the depression and then by extension all of the "coping" mechanisms I was using to deal with it. Since that time, it's been getting easier and easier to deal with but I try not to relax my guard too much because I know how easily it can sneak up on you.

For those of you that are currently struggling with these issues, my heart goes out to you. Please get help, it makes such a HUGE difference!

M

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The beatings will continue until morale improves
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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I've always been a binger, and probably restrict food too much at other times, but have never been able to make myself vomit. My gag reflex is almost nonexistent.

I started dieting in junior high, like many other girls, and read somewhere where you could diet 6 days a week and have a "cheat" day once a week. This sounded great to me! Unfortunately, my cheat day turned into an eat-everything-you-want day. I would plan all week what goodies I would eat on my cheat day - chocolate, peanut butter, donuts, you name it.

Fast forward to vet school - I dieted during the day, shunning the free drug rep lunches in favor of some small healthy meal from home, made healthy dinners with lots of veggies and lean proteins, and worked out almost daily. However, I would get bored and hungry studying at night, and, living alone, there was no one there to monitor what I was eating. Anything sweet was fair game, and I always talked myself into buying goodies at the store thinking I could eat them normally for once. Fat chance! Nothing in the pantry or freezer was off limits - ice cream, cookies, granola bars, anything sweet. If I didn't have anything sweet I would shovel in brown sugar out of the bag, eat boxed cake mixes dry...and do this until I was absolutely stuffed and felt ill.

Things got better when I graduated, got a job, and started living with someone. Binging is something best done when you are by yourself, with no one around to witness or to stop you from doing it. While I still struggle with it, I have learned to deal. I don't do it often, usually only when my partner is out of town. I have come to terms with the fact that it is just who I am. I'll binge for a night, sleep poorly because I am so stuffed, and feel bloated and nasty the next day, and then it's over. A good, clean diet (otherwise) and lots of training keep me lean, thank goodness, and I try not to stress out about it. I have read all the tips about how to avoid or stop a binge, but when my mind gets locked in on it, there's absolutely no stopping it.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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Basic depression/anorexia story here:
http://forum.slowtwitch.com/...rch_string=;#1648330

The anorexia seems to be mostly gone, but I still struggle with the depression a lot. Its just so chronic and I'll seem to pretend to be better for a while and then I'll really think about it and realize that it has been sneaking up on me and getting worse. I'm desperate to find some magic bullet to make it go away. Most of the time I feel that its just completely ruined my life. I hardly raced this season - worlds in Vancouver extremely undertrained and then exactly 6 workouts since, none longer than 1 hour. Its been 5 years since the depression set in, so almost a quarter of my life, and despite periods of relative happiness, I think the underlying negative thought patterns have just become more and more ingrained and I'm worse off than I was when I was struggling with the eating disorder. I've pushed away a chance at one of the best universities in the country, most of my friend, a sweet boyfriend, my fitness and health vary and are at a much lower level then they would be if I'd train and take care of myself consistently. Now I'm going to (hopefully) barely graduate from a much less prestigious small school next year all alone with not much future prospect in anything....

I've seen 7 different counselors so far and only one helped at all... I've also tried 2 meds, but I hate taking them and sometimes I was just too depressed to take them or go out to get refills, etc. My friend help sometimes and it always means a lot to me. I just feel guilty afterwards because I feel like I'm imposing and not a good friend. My parents and sister mean well but have mixed effects on me.

I guess I still haven't recovered, and even though I haven't had much positive result myself yet with professional help, I have to recommend it. My case seems to be particularly tough partially because I'm so tough on myself. I have friends who've been able to completely turn around their depression. Good luck!



"When the going gets tough, get going!"
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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These are the things I remember from being thin: bruises along my spine from where the bones touched the back of chairs, legs so skinny that if I stood with my ankles together you could've put your fist between my thighs, always wrapping myself in long-sleeve shirts and wool sweaters because I was so cold all the time. Not being able to walk barefoot comfortably: the bones of my feet had no padding under them. Going to bed and waking even more fatigued, tiredness that followed me like a shadow. Needing several minutes to go from laying or sitting to standing up, my blood pressure so low that I'd become dizzy as I got vertical. A pulse that I could barely feel. The kids at the summer camp I worked at, asking why I looked like a skeleton, my best friend Sam coming up behind me and hugging my shoulders, answering for me, "she's sick but getting better."

This is what I remember the day I hit that magic 110 lb goal weight: I'd run for my allotted hour that morning, lifted and was standing now backward on the scale with Kelly fiddling with the little bars that balanced it like she did once a week. I was 18 and a senior in high school. She was in charge of not only coaching me and turning me into a decent runner, but monitoring my weight, and helping me with nutrition. She'd weigh me once a week, backward so I wouldn't see the number - though she'd tell me if I did want to know - write it on a slip of paper for me to bring home to my mom, and call my doctor. "Guess what, honey?" she said, softly, and I looked up tiredly. "110... congratulations."

I knew it was close to that, I'd been hovering just over 109 for about three weeks. But I hadn't expected when I stepped on the scale that morning to be at that magic 110, and I certainly had never thought about what would happen when I finally was recovered. I cried in the car on the way home. I remember the rain, pouring down on the windshield over my tears, and I didn't know why I was crying or what I was feeling, except the relief that it was over. It was April 21, 2005. I ran again that afternoon, because I was healthy, because I could.

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Swim season, 2001. I wish I could tell you the day it all started, or why, but it wasn't one day, nor one reason. I was a very healthy middle school athlete: I ran cross country and I swam with the high school team. I ate well, I was in the fastest lane at practice and everyone adored me for being so little and so fast, they were all waiting for two years later when I could race, anchor relays for them, win the distance free events and score team points. I glowed under the attention of the older swimmers. But I didn't have the star high school swimming career that they all predicted for me. I was fast but not fast enough, and at some point my freshman year, I think I got the idea that if I were thinner I'd move through the water faster, that I would swim better if I were lighter and didn't have any food in my body, that... I don't know. This is where it becomes murky, but I recall training my a$$ off, swimming 9,000 yards a day and not getting any faster, and I think I ate less as a way to punish myself for that, for not making the time cuts I wanted.

My parents noticed the weight loss and brought me into my doctor's office for a physical in May 2002. I knew something was up when both my parents went to the doctor's office with me. We didn't have a scale at home so I was surprised when my weight was 103, down from 115 the last time I'd been there. I never thought about trying to lose weight. That wasn't the point. My mind was just trying to be a little thinner, so I'd slip through the water easier.

My doctor diagnosed me with anorexia nervosa, and referred us to a woman who was a dietician AND a therapist. I gained the weight back, glad to be given by someone else the permission to eat that I had denied myself for many months, but we never talked about why I'd developed an eating disorder, and so in a couple months I was back up to 115 lbs, the thought tucked back in my mind that I could always lose it again.

Which, of course, I did.

And this time, it was because what I ate (or didn't) was a way to have some control over my life. I was a ridiculously good swimmer, I loved practice, but my parents would never let me go out with my swim team friends after, or to their parties on the weekend, or even ride with them to practice (god forbid I be in the car with a teenage driver. I walked from school to practice). An introvert, I'd never had many friends, and now I did, and wasn't allowed to hang out with them. I started swimming more, running more, eating less. The first two were a great way to get out of the house, probably a search for the happiness I was desperately missing, the last a silent scream to my parents, if you won't let me do what I want, I won't eat.

This time, I got dragged to the Mercy Hospital Eating Disorder Treatment Program. My parents suspected (rightfully so) that I was relapsing, and since outpatient treatment hadn't worked the first time, they wanted me hospitalized. Or - they didn't, really. My mom locked herself in the bathroom that morning, a panic attack over the fact that I might be admitted. Bitter teenager that I was, I shouted through the door at her, "but you WANT me hospitalized so why are you panicking over it?"

I wasn't admitted. I don't remember the person's name who did the intake assessment, but he was incredibly condescending, and I lied my way through it. I might've answered honestly to someone different, but this guy was just incredibly... condescending. I shudder writing this, remembering that day in details that I wish I could erase. I remember him wrapping his fingers around my wrist, trying to see if I were an ectomorph, mesomorph, endomorph - this is how they determined, with your height, what you were supposed to weigh. I wanted to pull away, from the awful touch of this stranger. I certainly did not want to put on a johnny and be alone in a small room with him to be weighed but I didn't have a choice. When he weighed me, I was 111 lbs, a pound over the minimum requirement for my height. They could not admit me - between that and my answers to all their questions, I was not "sick enough."

My parents were shocked, as they'd fully expected me to be admitted, and now I could throw back at them that I was fine, the people at the fancy hospital you just dragged me to said so (they hadn't said I was fine of course, but I'm good at twisting things). One point for Alyie. My parents' hands were tied... they did make me see a therapist at home. Another control thing, a person I didn't like and of course one that THEY had chosen, so if I talked at all, it was about small things.

By February my junior year, I was getting visibly thinner. My weight dropped to 105 and I was pulled off the swim team two days before our championship meet. I was livid, again the parental control, and while my parents could keep me from swimming, they could not keep me from running. My retaliation, then, was to start running 13 mi a day, and eat very little. I switched from vegetarianism (which I'd started in 6th grade, not ED related at all) to veganism (definitely ED - a way to control something again, and a way to eliminate more food groups).

When you starve yourself, your brain starts to short-circuit. Interestingly enough, I never had any trouble with school - I took all AP and Honors classes and eventually graduated valedictorian. Somehow I could focus on school things, it was, perhaps, a welcome distraction, another way to isolate myself, stay locked in your room studying all day. But the lack of glucose to your brain is, I think, what causes a lot of the weird eating habits. I developed a desperate need for everything I ate to match in some way, to be symmetrical - for instance, I'd have to eat the same breakfast and dinner but lunch could be different. Vegetables did not "match" anything, I wouldn't eat them. A bagel and cereal matched. I could have a bagel for breakfast, cereal for lunch, a bagel for dinner. Anorexics do eat. You have to - just a little, just enough to keep yourself from fainting. I remember one day having six, four-ounce soy yogurts, and that was all I was going to eat that day. You know how those yogurt packs come: you get three of one flavor, three of another. I had three strawberry and three peach, and I couldn't figure out how to eat them, how to separate 2 for breakfast, 2 for lunch, 2 for dinner, so it would be symmetrical. This caused so much anxiety, to not know the order in which to eat them.

The first morning of my senior year in high school, I ran 4.5 miles. I went to school, came home, ran 9 more. At my doctor's appointment after that, I weighed 97 lbs. I am 5'6".

This is what your life becomes, when you have a severe eating disorder: an endless cycle of appointments. I saw my doctor every week (weighed, vitals, questions about what, if anything, I was eating). Therapist every week. Blood panels drawn once a month (they always came back fine, and this was another thing I shot back at my treatment team: if I am so sick, why are my electrolytes and protein levels fine?!). Between school, all the appointments, homework, I had no time for anything else. At the same time you are trying to recover and break away from the disorder, you are forced to live and breathe it constantly.

When I got to 93 lbs, I was threatened with hospitalization again. A place in Massachussets this time - I was not taken for an assessment, but told point-blank that if I were to become medically unstable, I would be in-the-car-and-taken-to-Walden-instantly. This is not a treatment hospital, but one for medical stabilization (think: feeding tube). Because my heart rhythms and bloodwork were always fine, they wouldn't take me. My parents were waiting for some test result to come back abnormal, praying for this I think, so I would be out of their hands and in a hospital.

I really, really didn't want to be hospitalized. Everyone kept telling me, "if you do not gain weight, you're going to die." Dying didn't scare me too much - the possibility was too surreal. Being hospitalized, a much realer threat, scared the sh*t out of me.

One September afternoon, I called Kelly. I don't remember what spurred this phone call. She is the manager of the local gym, and I knew her from volunteering at blood drives there. I also knew she was a runner, and because of this, I thought she'd be sympathetic to me. Goodness knows my parents or doctor didn't get the athletic side of me, didn't understand that running was the one thing that made me happy (yes, I was still doing it, still the 13.5 miles a day, somehow.) I told her quickly over the phone that I needed to gain some weight and was hoping lifting would help, could she set up a lifting program for me? She said sure, come on in, so that afternoon I met her in her office, eventually broke down about the eating disorder and told her, "look, if I don't gain some weight, my parents are going to hospitalize me. I'd rather recover from this on my own."

Kelly was the angel who finally helped me turn things around. I didn't know her very well but I put my exercise in her hands - it was nice for me to finally have someone take care of me whom *I* had chosen, whom I liked. She was the first person to treat me as an athlete. To her I was not the anorexic girl who needed to gain weight - I was the runner who needed to gain some muscle so she'd run faster. This perspective shift was huge, and it is a large part of why I finally recovered. Someone finally cared about me for the girl I wanted to be, an athlete.

Kelly became my ally. The first day, she asked if she could weigh me, so that she could monitor if the lifting-to-gain-muscle would work. I said, with trepidation, sure, but let me stand backward on the scale and for god's sake don't tell me the number. I realized that day that I wasn't anxious when she weighed me, unlike when a random nurse did it at the doctor's office. She thus got an additional responsibility: monitoring my weight, keeping the rest of my treatment team informed. My parents liked her, my doctor liked her, most importantly, *I* liked her. I also, in a fit of being assertive, told my parents I wanted a new therapist. I found one, incidentally the first one I called was a runner. SCORE.

I'd run for an hour, lift for an hour, every morning. My weight crept up slowly, half a pound a week. I got stronger. I got faster. Kelly negotiated with my parents to get them to sign some race waiver forms for me ("she's fast, let her race, she'll do well and it will build her self confidence.") She was, of course, right. I settled into a routine I loved - get up, go to the gym, see Kelly a couple times a week to check in, she'd always ask about how my running was before even starting with the eating stuff. I was happy. I had a hard year, trying to be a senior in high school and recover from an eating disorder, but it was a very happy year, glowing with the attention and new-found health.

In February 2005, my hips started bothering me when I ran. Kelly called my doctor on a hunch and asked her to schedule a bone density test for me. The hip problems turned out to be muscular, but she was right-on with the bone density test. Osteoporosis - common for anorexia sufferers, from a lack of estrogen. Luckily, lifting would help this. And I started taking birth control until my periods returned on their own (I'm still waiting for this to happen. Even at a healthy weight, you suffer the health consequences from anorexia - one of mine seems to be that my body just won't make hormones. And because of this, I will never be able to have kids. Not that I want them... the idea of being pregnant and fat scares the sh*t out of me. As a sidenote, my bone density has been increasing over the past few years, and is now classified as osteopoenia).

99, 99.7, 100.... 103, 105,... I never obsessed about numbers until they did... another instance of treatment making parts of the disorder worse. I never had a need to know what I weighed until other people started caring about it, and now I cannot escape this, the need to know once a week what I weigh.

April 21, 2005... 110.

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This is what I remember from getting healthier: my nails weren't as brittle, my hair thickened enough that we could tie it in French braids again. I could wear a size 32 swimsuit, rather than ones from the kids' section. Skin that wasn't so dry all the time. Standing up without being quite as dizzy (though this never has fully gone away). Eyes chased me at the beach still - but for my beauty, not for being skeletal. How good things taste, this rediscovery of food, new fruits and vegetables finally, and ohmygod yogurt. I remember being able to stay up past 8pm because I wasn't so tired. Walking barefoot. Looking in the mirror and seeing light in my eyes. Turning around and seeing a tan back, bruise-free. Running into Sam at the store, her hugging my shoulders again, "you look so beautiful!"

This is what I remember from getting healthier: Kelly handing me her book for marathon training, like a blessing, Alyie, go run.

maybe she's born with it, maybe it's chlorine
If you're injured and need some sympathy, PM me and I'm very happy to write back.
disclaimer: PhD not MD
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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I became anorexic when I was 14, at the end of my freshman year of high school. I had been a chubby kid, but that started to change when I started high school sports (soccer, swimming, track). As I thinned out during freshman year, I loved not being picked on anymore, and I loved the feeling of control (or the illusion of it). When summer came things rapidly spiraled out of control. I went from 135 lbs to 88 lbs in just over three months - and I'm a guy. I mostly remember being exhausted and cold, even on 90 degree days. And I remember having two deeply scared parents who didn't have a clue what to do.

I learned later that I was about two weeks away from being hospitalized. At the time, I knew things were deeply wrong, but I just couldn't pull out of it on my own. What finally convinced me I had to stop starving myself was when my doctor refused to sign my medical forms for the swim team. I loved the camaraderie on the team so much that I couldn't bear not being allowed to participate. I wish I could say I decided all on my own that I wanted to get healthy, but I can't - I needed the outside impetus.

Getting healthy was harder for me than losing the weight in the first place. Meals often physically hurt because my stomach had shrunk so much, and I had to stretch it back out. Mentally, it took a lot of nerve to watch the outlines of bone I found so reassuring recede back under skin and muscle and fat. It was hard to tell people what I was dealing with - boys growing up in the Midwest in the early '90s weren't "supposed" to have eating disorders. It took about a year before I was really physically and mentally healthy again.

I slid dangerously close to a relapse in my mid-twenties when I was training for my first Ironman. I got wicked thin again, running about 3.5% body fat, telling myself it was good for the race, but the fact is I was walking a very fine line for about six months.

Now I'm all grown up (so people tell me), but it's still a lurking issue. I worry about physical appearances too much. I keep a lid on the worst of the negativity now, but haven't fully put it to bed. Probably never will.

Be careful out there, this shit is very, very hard. But lots of people have gone through it and come out more or less OK in the end. You can too.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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Aylie sent me a PM today with the link to this thread so I thought I would post. Hopefully this will help some others see this disease is not just something for girls. Yes thats right im a guy and I'm anorexic.

When I was 13 I got into a very very bad car accident. Two of my friends and I were all ejected from the vehicle. I was the only one of us who did not die. Only a few months ago have I been able to put all the pieces together and realize that I have survivors remorse. It was two girls both younger than me that died that day and I still dont think thats fair. I dont think its right and I think it should have been me not them who died.

I fell into some very deep depression and was very suicidal for several years but never acted on it (obviously) as I felt it was the easy way out and I am not a quitter. I started eating less and skipping meals b/c I could. I have never been that model of a man - tall - dark - handsome. Im short 5'5" Im only 30 but am pretty much bald so im not much to look at. Although my wife thinks i am! I discovered that I would never be big or have the appearance of being strong. That my identity became being small. I was always small, I was a pretty sickly child and have lungs that are pretty much crap as a result. From all the medicines I was on I was a pretty chunky kid and one day discovered cycling. This became my drug and I would ride 20 miles everyday which for a 14 year old kid is kind of unusual. However I was never fast which is what I have always yearned for. My mom worked 2nd shift and my dad worked at home but was always in his office so after my brothers moved out when I was 15 I basically started eating every meal alone and I guess thats when I really started to control food. Several times in my HS years my mom said she thought I was going anorexic and that she was worried about me and I just told her she was nuts. Guys arent anorexic, thats a girl thing. SO I kept on like I was. When I went off to college a friend encouraged me to walk on to the XC team. I thought sure why not. I went with them for their easy run day. 8 miles at an 8 minute pace and was able to hang, barely, but I hung on. Coach said I could walk on. Looking back this was a terrible mistake. I had so many transitions going on and a full class load and a job and I just joined a div 1 team. I stopped eating almost entirely. I didnt have the time and I didnt need food. food was for weak people who couldn't manage otherwise. I needed that time for practice and homework and it was easily expendible. We had a scale in the training room and after about 2 months of running I was bored and weighed myself. 103lbs. I was shocked and realized that I was running myself into the ground and started eating againg for a little while. I had burned off so much muscle tissue that a large lump appeared on my shoulder so quickly the team trainer was worried it could be cancer and sent me for x-rays. It was just a bump on my shoulder blade but their was barely anything between it and my skin. what is really sad is that in all this I still felt fat. I was still the slowest person on the team and I desperatly wanted to be thinner and faster to fit in and get approval from my teammtes, who had all been recruited for their running ability. My coach just toyed with me. Kept pushing me harder kept saying if I just worked a little harder he might put me in some meets and take me off of redshirt status. I ran myself so hard and so malnurished that I ended up with stress fractures in both shins so bad that I would take 2000 mg of ibubrofen before every practice and a 500 mg codine at night before bed so that I could sleep through the pain. I left that school and went to another. I was the #3 runner there and was really doing well. they actually cared that my shins were damaged and were working towards recover. However on october 31st 1998 something happened that if I had been a girl would have probably sent red flags up but b/c I am not nobody noticed. While playing a pickup soccer game I broke my right femur totally in half. when I saw the x-rays my bone had all kinds of pits and defects in it. My mom asked about it and the doc gave some crap excuse that it was weird but sometimes things like this happen. If I had been a girl im certain that somebody would have started at least asking questions but nobody did. SO I went home medically withdrawing from school and spent the next 2 months learning to walk again.

When I got back to school sports were the least thing on my mind as just walking wore me out and I no longer felt that I deserved to be able to eat, especially since I had not done anything. If I dont excersize and I eat i will get fat and that is something I am deathly afraid of. My father and brother are both very overweight and i am absolutly terrified that I will end up the same way. I cant get fat I wont let myself. SO I started eating even less. I would eat once every other day or so and would go to buffets where I could get my moneys worth and store up food for the next couple of days. I contantly felt like I was going to black out. Like I was going to pass out at any moment but i was sure it was something else. I even asked if I could get an MRI done on my brain but never did.

SO what has changed for me?

A couple of years ago my little sis (sister in law) was diagnosed with anorexia and bulemia. I went out to remuda ranch in arizona where she was sent for a family week and started reading through the literature and started realizing that what I thought were smart eating behaviours were warning signs behaviours of anorexics. It hit me so hard and I was just so mad at myself. I started looking at myself and all the pain I had been through and realized it was all my own fault. that I had done this to me. Around this same time I was diagnosed as hypothyroid which for anyone who doesnt know means your metabolism basically decides to go into a coma which is what mine has done.

I no longer eat b/c im hungry i eat b/c its time to eat. I eat three times a day now regardless of if I am excersing. I still skip meals some times because it does make me feel better. Right now im have a really hard time though. I was put on some meds over the winter to try and help the thyroid and all it did was make me really depressed and I put on 15+ lbs. I weigh more now than I ever have in my whole life. My clothes dont fit and im really really scared. Im just trying to eat well and excersize and not get hurt but I just want to stop eating sooo badly. I want to be thin, I want to be fast and right now im fat and slow. At least thats how I feel.

I hope this helps some of you girls out there knowing your not alone and I hope it helps some of the guys realize that this is not just something that affects woman.

thanks aylie youve been such a great friend and support for me!

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God's in his heaven, alls right with the world -Nerv
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [suparuki] [ In reply to ]
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I've read these stories and they're all so sad. I wish there was a way to magically make someone love and respect himself or herself. I was having problems in law school one time and someone told me to stop berating myself. While words from others hurt, words we hurl at ourselves can be even more destructive. Where does this need to punish ourselves for failure to achieve our own self-imposed standard of perfection come from?

There is a girl in my daughter's school who was hospitalized for anorexia last year -- she is nine years old. She's a beautiful, introverted, smart person who, for whatever reason, stopped eating. It breaks my heart the road she is destined to travel.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [tigerchik] [ In reply to ]
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Wow, tigerchick, so many of those things ring true for me too. Bruises on my back from the hard backs of chairs (and on my butt from my sit bones), bruises from any of my limbs overlapping while sleeping... The crazy tiredness and idiotic workouts (I remember one day where I swam 5000 yards by myself - I'm an ex high school breaststroker/IMer speedster (and xc runner) so I know this isn't that much, but by yourself it seems like it - and then rode 5 hours on the trainer when I'd only eaten an apple and some ramen that day). I'm still always cold. I guess I'm a similar build to you so it kind of make sense (5'6'' 95# lowest, now 115, my old college, ok I'll admit it, I'm an MIT dropout, suspended me until my weight reached 116, but then I transferred).


My eating disorder was really more of a symptom of bad depression than a pure eating disorder. However, there were enough anorexic though patterns to classify it as such (control control control). Depression sapped the joy out of everything including food, which I never really liked that much to begin with. I don't like food. I just plain don't like eating. I don't like watching people eat, I feel disgusted when people exclaim how excited they are about food, etc. In fact that was something that drove my ex and me apart. I couldn't stand to watch him eat (his manners were not the greatest) and he would get so excited about food sometimes. It disgusted me to the point that I thought his mouth was disgusting and I wouldn't kiss him. Even now, the only time that I truly enjoy food is when somebody buys me a meal with good wine at a very fancy restaurant. Otherwise its still a chore, but fortunately one that gets done these days...



"When the going gets tough, get going!"
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [catwood] [ In reply to ]
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Thanks to all of you for sharing your stories. This is a truly incredible thread. As the mother of two young girls, this is certainly a topic that concerns me. I have always thought that keeping them involved in sports was the best way to prevent something like this, but many of you were athletes when you were young, so I guess that's no guarantee.

If any of you have advice for parents, I would love to hear it.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [DawnT] [ In reply to ]
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In Reply To:
Thanks to all of you for sharing your stories. This is a truly incredible thread. As the mother of two young girls, this is certainly a topic that concerns me. I have always thought that keeping them involved in sports was the best way to prevent something like this, but many of you were athletes when you were young, so I guess that's no guarantee.

If any of you have advice for parents, I would love to hear it.[/quote]
I've been thinking about your 'question' for a few days and have had trouble coming up with anything specific. Here are some thoughts:

-Some girls are predisposed to eating disorders. Researchers suspect and have found evidence for a genetic link. I have an aunt who has anorexia... and multiple sclerosis... sad as this is to say, I do not know which one will kill her first. Traits like perfectionism, high level of motivation, low self esteem, very intelligent - do not mean a girl WILL develop an eating disorder, but are common characteristics of sufferers. Trying to temper that a bit in a child, reminding them that they don't have to be perfect... can be helpful.

-Love your children for who they are, for their unique interests... be involved and supportive. Set boundaries but don't be overly controlling (like my parents were. we have a much better relationship now, btw).

-Don't make comments about "bad" foods, or something being "bad for you," or "junk foods..." teach them the basics of proper nutrition... that everything is okay in moderation. Likewise, keep any struggles with your own weight private, so your kids don't get the focus on weight, etc. Same for not counting calories, etc...

-talk with them about how they feel about their bodies, and help them develop that positive body image and self esteem. Avoid commenting on other people's figures, be it in real life or on TV (I have a vivid memory of watching Survivor with my family right before I started slipping into anorexia. I remember my dad commenting on how Elizabeth, one of the Survivors, had such a flat, beautiful stomach. And I remember wishing my tummy were that flat too... something I'd never thought about before, but became obsessed with after that).

-dont' shield them from stuff. You could hide all fashion magazine with tall and skinny models, or you could have them look closely and see just how airbrushed those models are. This goes for a lot of "fitness' magazines too. People just don't look that good in real life.

-if they are in sports - which are a great way to build self confidence - make sure it's focused on performance, and that coaches are enforcing healthy habits

I guess it's hard to say because you can do all kinds of things and one of your girls still may develop and eating disorder. The media supposedly has such a huge influence, though I never read fashion magazines, rarely watched TV (exception of the Survivor incident, which obviously had a huge effect), the only mirrors in our house are (1) in my parents room and (2) a bathroom mirror, we didn't have a scale in our house... my parents brought me up eating very healthfully with occassional treats, my mom has never dieted (my dad has a bit but never talked with me much about it), we always had family meals. My anorexia developed as a VERY internal thing... you can reduce all the "triggers" if you want, it still may happen. On another note, an eating disorder can often develop as a response to trauma - I had a very traumatic incident as a 12 yr old that has absolutely nothing to do with the eating disorder... except perhaps causing a desire (scratch that, NEED) for control that I'd never had before. I suspect it triggered me to develop an anxiety disorder too. These are some of the things you go through in therapy: trying to "dig" and find all the underlying causes of it. My therapy homework for this week is to write about "why I NEED to be thin." I can list a whole bunch of answers to that question, but I'm not ready to give that NEED up... which is, perhaps, part of why I still have an eating disorder.

Tangent over :P I hope there's something useful to you in there. PM me if you have any other questions...

maybe she's born with it, maybe it's chlorine
If you're injured and need some sympathy, PM me and I'm very happy to write back.
disclaimer: PhD not MD
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [tigerchik] [ In reply to ]
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Love your children for who they are

the wisest thing I've heard in quite awhile. :)

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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [tigerchik] [ In reply to ]
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Thanks so much for your thoughtful and informational reply.
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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This is a story sent to me by PM.
Keep the stories coming.

"I am bulimic. I have NEVER said that out loud, NEVER admitted this in a forum before, but its true. I have done this off and on since a teenager. I first got the idea when I read a letter about it in Ann Landers, someone asking for HELP with it, and I thought: dang it why didnt I think of it? so Id throw up when I ate too much as a teenager and never let it totally go.

Now its not all the time, but when I am very stressed it comes up (literally!) Especially in the last 2 weeks, I have an IM coming up and I am still not at my fantasy goal race weight and I am stressing and I am eating too much and throwing up. This works, to a point. I know I am just shoving food down to avoid feeling things and I know what I am doing, it works keeping weight off but not totally. I am still a bit bloated and this is NOT helping me going into IM. I just started my period so I guess that explains the carb cravings, I usually throw up around that time. I think I might now get off the sugar/carb/vomit train til after the race.

I have never got help about it. I have seen Drs for depression and never have admitted it. Sometimes I see an obese person who kinda looks like me and I think: that is what I would look like if I never threw up, so what I do cant be that bad. I have had a bit of enamel replaced but I am always complimented on how I take care of my teeth when I go to the dentist. I guess I have not hit the bottom yet, as I am not totally compelled to stop,,,and this has gone on for decades, and I do not have a compelling reason why I cant do this once and a while. I hate when it is outta control but sometimes I like how it feels. Sorry, its true. I am sure it is not helping me athletically, and I hate being so secretive about it."
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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for whoever wrote it: all of my (((((((hugs))))))) and I wish I could send you the courage to tell someone, and get help.

maybe she's born with it, maybe it's chlorine
If you're injured and need some sympathy, PM me and I'm very happy to write back.
disclaimer: PhD not MD
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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This link was sent to me with stories from men and women who have suffered from eating disorders.

http://www.nytimes.com/...DISORDERS_CLIPS.html
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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Saw this on the ironman website the other day.

http://ironman.com/...g-ironman-competitor
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [mdraegernyc] [ In reply to ]
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cutting is eating disorders' cousin. i have/had some intense control issues twinned with self-hatred, so i can sympathize with you folks.

it was worst when i was living on the street, and then in a group home, when i was 17. sometimes i would have 10 cutting sessions per week, with 20-30 cuts per session. i was going to high school at the time and i would go to the washroom during class and cut then go back and just bleed onto my napsack which was black. nobody ever approached me about it, which was probably good, but it was definitely a strange time.

i no longer cut, but the desire is always there. i had a relapse last december during exams, though, and couldn't go to the pool for about two weeks (thankfully i didn't have to coach at the time). that was a bit aggravating.

i also get comments sometimes at races or at the pool - "what happened to your arms and legs?"

i just kind of laugh and say that i was a crazy kid.

i don't have any silver bullet as to how to deal with control issues like this as all i tend to do is keep myself busy enough to avoid them.

in any event, good luck to you guys and gals who deal with eating disorders. finding councilors or psychiatrists who can help you deal with the problems is probably the best path for you.
Last edited by: tegra: Oct 17, 08 23:21
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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When I listened to the clips, I wondered "what would my mom say?"

Four weeks ago I got to spend the day with my brother. One of the things we talked about in the car is how my anorexia had affected he and my little brother. Isaac was in kindergarten-fourth grade when I was sick and skinny, Ian was in high school. My parents did a very good job of shielding them from my illness. It is easy to let one child's sickness take over all family energy - that did not happen in our household. My parents spent their time with me carting me back and forth to doctor's appointments and therapy, they spent an equal amount of time taking Isaac to the playground, and Ian to movies and stuff. Ian said the weirdest thing for him is that he did not notice whether I was losing or gaining, because he saw me every day. He said when other people asked how I was, it confused him - he didn't know how to answer, because he was aware what they were getting at... but he did not know enough about exactly what was going on with me to say "she's getting healthier" or "she's really sick." He told me that he never quite understood the psychological part of it. "There were times when we'd be sitting at breakfast and I wanted to tell you, 'put the f*cking food in your mouth and chew it and swallow it.'" He said he didn't understand how hard that was, until a friend of his became anorexic, and would talk to him about it. "I think it was because she knew about you, and thought I understood. I never gave her advice, I just listened." We were driving... I think I started crying at that point, it touched me that somehow he knew that this is all you need sometimes, someone to listen. It was raining that day. Again.

I felt incredibly raw after that conversation. This is the only word for it - raw - I wanted to run away from it screaming, run fast enough to hurt some other way, because the emotion of rawness is unbearably painful. You get so wrapped up in your own disorder that you forget how it affects others. And even though Ian has no lingering effects from his sister's illness, he still had to be a part of it. It did not hurt him and his words were painful enough. I don't think I could handle asking my mother her memories. Or my other brother... mom told me Isaac would break down at school on occasion, thinking I was going to die. I am not sure how they reassured him that I would be okay, when they didn't know that to be the truth. But you can't tell a kindergartener, "I don't know if your sister is going to live or not." I hope so desperately that Isaac does not remember those days. And when I was sick that story did nothing for me. I only became afraid of death playing with a little cousin one day who is quite attached to me and wondered, "if I died, what would they tell her?"

You make progress in little pieces. I can identify with the girl who wants to be able to eat a cookie without thinking of the calories in it. Today I made lunch for my mom and I - quinoa 'cakes,' which have scary things in it like a bit of flour, half a cup of shredded potato (don't ask why I fear these things, it is again, irrational). I have no idea how many calories were in them and that doesn't bug me in the least. Sweets are hard for me - I always think "you should be eating something healthy!" but I had a scone for dessert last night... and another one for breakfast. And feeling fine about it. I don't know the magic when you switch from fearing something to being okay with it, but today, I'll take it. The frustrating thing for me right now is to be doing so well with trying new things... but losing weight. I am getting quite thin again... I'm only eight pounds above my minimum healthy weight... which is a bit scary for me, because I absolutely do not want to get to the point where I need to gain weight again. Maybe this is why I've been okay with eating lately, the knowledge that it's not going to hurt me, that if I do happen to gain a bit (which with the way my metabolism's been the past couple months, won't), it's not a big deal. After all, I'd still be thin, right?

maybe she's born with it, maybe it's chlorine
If you're injured and need some sympathy, PM me and I'm very happy to write back.
disclaimer: PhD not MD
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [tigerchik] [ In reply to ]
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This must all be part of the healing process. As you said, you never thought about how this affected your brothers who were aware and concerned about your health.
These disorders are hard to fight. I guess you just have to take it a day, a week, a month at a time.
Sending you lots of hugs.
By the way, I have a brother named Isaac too Smile
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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [fitzie] [ In reply to ]
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I had anorexia when I was 13, and was hospitalized for 9 months or so when my weight dropped to dangerously low levels. I manifested practically all of the symptoms that are typical of eating disorders, with a couple of exceptions: I was part of what was then a 5% minority of male sufferers (I believe that the percentage is higher now), and my trigger point was athletic rather than aesthetic... I was shooting for a national age-group record on the track, and using the same thought process as others here have described, thought that I'd be quicker if I lost a little weight. I did actually get the record, and very logically decided that if losing a couple of pounds had made me quicker, losing some more was going to make me lightning fast. For a little while I did get quicker, but the curve was parabolic and unfortunately by the time I started slowing down I was so sick that I attributed the performance loss to an entirely fictional weight gain. I spiraled completely out of control, and was lucky to have the necessary support from my family to ensure that I got through. The formal diagnosis of my illness probably took place a year or so after I first tried to "lose a little weight". It was probably another 3 years after that before my parents started relaxing and would actually talk about anorexia in the past tense. Although the stay in hospital prevented me from physically starving myself to death, neither I nor my family thought that the psychiatric treatment that I underwent was particularly helpful; in fact, in some ways, I actually regressed as a result of it. I can't comment on the extent to which my experience mirrors the norm, but the protocols that were used in my case did very little good. Interestingly, what did work was hypnosis. A guy called Michael Joseph - to whom I'll be eternally grateful - ran a hypnotherapy clinic in London, and at an off-site for my aunt's company he counseled a lot of her peers on weight loss, giving up smoking and so on. He made a very positive impression on my aunt, and she asked him if he would help me; presumably he thought that weight gain would be an interesting change from his usual run of business since he agreed to give it a shot. After a few sessions, he asked me what I thought was the most graceful animal in the wild, and when I answered, "A cheetah", he asked me if I'd ever seen a fat cheetah. Obviously I couldn't picture that, and he suggested that cheetahs instinctively take on the right amount of fuel. Taking that a stage further, he suggested that if I trusted myself - instead of constantly thinking that I was letting myself down by giving into hunger - I'd eat the right amount for me. To this day I don't know what he would have done if I'd answered 'sea-lion', but I suspect he could have worked around it. For me, learning to trust myself with respect to my diet was the turning point in my treatment, and that was the moment at which I began to get better. As well as the direct impact this process had with respect to my health, I found that I also benefited for years afterwards from the strength of the auto-suggestion routines that Dr. Joseph dispensed - I got back into track, made the national team and scored a major scholarship, at least in part because of the increased confidence in my ability and training that the process engendered. I still use elements of that today, more than 20 years later. I can't say that this would work for everyone: I personally think that a lot of the prescriptions' power had to do with the doctor who administered it to me, and it might not have been as effective under someone else's direction. Notwithstanding that, the process did address the root cause of my illness, rather than the symptoms, and it's difficult for me to see how any curative process could be effective without this focus. It's also completely impossible for me to visualise surviving my illness without the enormous support I got from friends and my family, which was given unhesitatingly despite the significant costs that it often entailed - my father essentially put his carreer on hold for two years to deal with this.

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Re: Coping with Eating Disorders [gord] [ In reply to ]
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"After a few sessions, he asked me what I thought was the most graceful animal in the wild, and when I answered, "A cheetah", he asked me if I'd ever seen a fat cheetah. Obviously I couldn't picture that, and he suggested that cheetahs instinctively take on the right amount of fuel. Taking that a stage further, he suggested that if I trusted myself - instead of constantly thinking that I was letting myself down by giving into hunger - I'd eat the right amount for me. "

WOW - cheetas are fast too :D

I love that analogy. Thank you so much for sharing your story.

maybe she's born with it, maybe it's chlorine
If you're injured and need some sympathy, PM me and I'm very happy to write back.
disclaimer: PhD not MD
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