Caution: this story contains details some readers may find upsetting. Due to sensitive content, panelists are referred to by their first names only in order to protect their identity
GUELPH – Recovery is rarely an easy, linear path to a clear finish line, but it is something worth fighting for.
Panelists made that clear during the Waterloo-Wellington Eating Disorders Coalition’s 21st Faces of Recovery panel on Feb. 5.
About 50 people attended, including people with eating disorders, professionals and supportive family members.
Krista
Krista shared her story to “put a face to illness in an effort to fight stigma and give hope to those in the throes of their suffering.”
She remembers being “hyper aware” of food and weight since childhood, when food often used to control her.
She was given treats to reward good behaviour and only allowed dessert if she finished her dinner. This made meals stressful, and she’d force herself to finish in order to get dessert.
She grew up seeing “emaciated models” in fashion magazines that enforced “the idea that the only way to be beautiful was to be skeletal.”
When schoolyard bullies discovered how Krista reacted to mention of her weight, “it was open season,” and she soon became depressed and afraid to be herself.
Early onset puberty made matters worse, and Krista wore baggy clothes to hide her changing body. She examined herself closely, “picking at problem areas,” and set strict food restrictions.
The words “fat, failure, stupid” ran continually through her head.
She prioritized the eating disorder, lost friends and her grades and self esteem plummeted. And with each pound she dropped came compliments and feelings of elation.
“I had no idea who I was outside of what I saw in the mirror or what people said I should be. I felt never good enough,” she said. “I believed I was unlovable and would never amount to anything.”
Krista dropped out of school, which felt like the “ultimate failure.”
More than once, when the feeling of failure and constant physical pain caused by the eating disorder was unbearable, Krista attempted suicide.
But one day, she woke up and “decided I wanted to live … I was going to really do the work.”
Krista cried often in those early days while developing a new sense of self and learning to embody progress and not perfection.
Now, Krista is “eating disorder-free. I am free.”
“Recovery isn’t linear and there are often starts and stops,” and sometimes giant leaps backward. “But if you keep at it … you’ll always stay a step ahead.”
She learned that from a doctor who made her feel safe and unconditionally accepted, and helped her see the things she felt ashamed of are just part of being human.
Allison
“I’m not speaking here because I have all the answers or a perfect recovery strategy. I’m on a journey … just like a lot of you,” Alison said.
Eating disorders are rarely solely about food, she said. “There are so many different factors and experiences that can lead to struggling with eating.”
Allison’s was connected to obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and anxiety, as well as feelings of loneliness, isolation, exclusion and fear.
She said the eating disorder became a way to “gain some more control.”
In middle school, Allison “felt alone, didn’t have many friends and was nervous.”
She found refuge in running track and cross country and it became a key part of her identity and self worth.
Allison trained hard to prepare for high school running while restricting food.
But before she started Grade 9, her family doctor said she must stop running and referred her for testing.
“I had a dangerously low heart rate,” Allison said, and she was admitted to Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto.
“I did ultimately need that kind of intervention to start over and kind of rebuild myself,” she said, though “there was definitely good and bad things about being in that kind of closed facility.”
Allison started taking medication that helps her feel calm and peaceful.
She was eventually able to return to running, which “really helped with my recovery process,” mostly because of her coaches, teammates and twin sister, who all “made me feel really welcome and included.”
Her mindset changed, and instead of needing to be the fastest, she realized it was more important to be healthy.
Allison worked with dietitians who helped her “dismantle some of the diet culture thinking that I had learned over my life.”
And she was “lucky enough to be involved in regular counselling from early on … to help me fight back against my OCD thoughts.”
When Allison’s coach opened up about her own experience with an eating disorder, it empowered Allison to share her story, too.
Sharing helped her build a strong community who support her with recovery, and helped her see the eating disorder didn’t define her.
“You are more than just your eating disorder,” Allison said.
Val
Val, a mother and grandmother, said it can feel like eating disorders didn’t affect her generation, but that’s not true.
She traces her eating disorder back to early childhood, when she was called chubby and her food was restricted.
She hated seeing photos of herself because she thought her legs were too “solid.”
“I look back now and think … there’s nothing wrong with those little legs. But that distortion started so early – just because of that one word, ‘chubby,’” she said.
By 15 Val felt deeply discouraged and believed losing weight was the only answer. She had good grades, friends, family and church community, and felt her weight was the only thing out of her control.
She thought losing weight would make her dad proud and make her feel “whole.”
When she began purging, her parents took her to a doctor, who explained the damage she was doing but didn’t offer tangible support.
“I felt guilty for worrying my parents, and really ashamed that I couldn’t stop.”
Soon, Val got married and moved out. She worked hard to hide her eating disorder from her husband because, “I worried if he knew how bad it was he was going to try to get me help” – something she feared, because it meant gaining weight.
The secret made her see herself “as a shallow, deceitful liar … The eating disorder had taken over my whole life … All I thought of was what to eat, what not to eat and when to purge. I went to sleep each night exhausted, guilty and ashamed. I would pray the next day would be different.”
Ten years passed and people often told Val “how great I looked after having five kids. And I would nearly fall apart, because I would think, ‘if only they knew.’
“I was terrified of being fat but I hated this life. How did I get to this? I was thin now, but my life was so far from what I imagined.”
Val couldn’t see an out: “even if I lived until 80 – I figured I would die like this.”
But a turning point came when she was 38 and a dental assistant asked if she had an eating disorder or engaged in purging.
“It was humiliating and raw but I felt a sense of power and peace after I admitted it out loud. And I felt courage,” she said. “From that day on, I never purged again.”
Val is continuing to work with therapists and dietitians to create a healthy, sustainable diet and understand and accept that, “I’m allowed to be just me.
“I discovered I am more than just a person with an eating disorder,” Val said
She wants others to know “You are good enough. You are everything, just the way you are. And you are not alone.”
Julia
Julia was 14 when she was first diagnosed and hospitalized with an eating disorder.
As a child she remembers feeling positive about her body, but that “shifted rather quickly” around puberty.
“In a society that stigmatizes body changes, especially weight gain” puberty can be very challenging, she said.
She struggled with her identity and where she fit in the world, paired with anxiety, depression and feeling a lack of control.
Julia believed if she could control her body, her “happiness, peace and self esteem could be restored.”
As a teenager she was hospitalized frequently, and though she wouldn’t have chosen it herself, she called the hospitalizations “life saving.” They were also “really, really challenging,” she said.
Her eating disorder affected everything, including friendships, education and hobbies.
“Music is really important to me,” she said, but she didn’t have energy to sing or write songs anymore. She enjoyed running, but that wasn’t allowed.
In early adulthood Julia joined a community program that shifted how she understood eating disorders.
She learned about the systemic context that leads so many people to experience eating disorders and “engage in diet culture.”
She learned to, “Put the onus on the systems – who is benefiting from this moment of body shame?
“It’s not us, and it’s not because there’s something wrong with individuals. It’s the greater systems at play that have perpetuated oppression against different bodies in different ways for so long.”
This fresh understanding “took away a lot of the shame and guilt,” she said.
She stopped thinking of recovery as a finish line and saw it in those moments she wouldn’t have experienced before, such as a trip or special meal.
She discovered body neutrality, meaning instead of aiming for a positive body image, her appearance has become less important.
“Its more about a relationship with my body,” she said.
Her body image ebbs and flows but what’s consistent is her unwavering self-respect and appreciation.
“My eating disorder was a misguided reflection of my strong emotions,” Julia said. “Now, I can channel my strong emotions outwards through advocacy and awareness.
“We should be angry,” she said. “Eating disorders are a social justice issue. They impact too many people. If we can raise awareness and reduce shame, that is a gift.”
For more information about the Waterloo-Wellington Eating Disorders Coalition or to connect with supports and services visit eatingdisorderscoalition.ca.
