Food and Guilt

I am very proud of myself. Why? Because I made dinner. For me. For only me. And I ate it by myself.

I'm sure that doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment for most people, but for me it's major. Since my boyfriend is out of town, I've been living off of soup, and cereal-- things that I get full from without any effort on my part. I love to cook for other people, but my eating disorder has convinced me for years that if I went out of my way to cook a meal just for myself that I was some sort of greedy fat ass. I really had it ingrained in me that eating when no one else is around makes me weak. Oddly enough, eating in front of other people also made me weak. So what did I do? Not eat, of course. When I first started recovery, I ate only because it was forced on me. I ate only when others were looking. I did it all for them. I did it all so they would shut up and leave me alone. I had an understanding with myself that yes, eating was stupid and only weak people did it on their own with no one looking. My God, how wrong and delusional I was! We have to eat in order to live. Pure and simple. Eating is natural. It is as natural as breathing or sleeping or drinking water. Our lives cannot be sustained without food. So there's really only two options-- eat or starve. Live or die. I know some people become life-long anorexics. They eat just enough to get by, but I would by no means call that living. A life with anorexia is not a happy life. It is not the life we were meant to have. It is not the life we deserve to have.

I have to realize that I am just as hungry and eating is just as important whether there are 20 people here or whether it's just me. There is no crime in cooking myself a meal. Period. I refuse to let my eating disorder make me feel guilty!

In the past when my boyfriend has been out of town, I've been known to wrestle with myself, torn over whether to cook or not to cook. More than once I've taken out a cutting board, a knife, thrown a pot on the stove and dropped vegetables into it only to have talked myself out of eating by the time the meal is ready.

Not tonight.

I made a vegan burrito. It sounds simple but I did it all from scratch-- sauteed some peppers and onions, made some rice and black beans with cilantro and lime, a homemade pico de gallo, and guacamole. I also added some nice crunchy lettuce and fresh corn. Oh. My. Goodness. And I ate the entire thing.

And I'm not crying or feeling anxious or beating myself up over it. I don't feel ashamed. I don't feel angry. I don't feel like a failure, or a fat ass, or anything else my eating disorder would have me believe that I am. I'm not sorry I ate. I am a little bummed out, however, about all of these dirty dishes.

If you're reading this, I hope you've eaten something. Or that you're eating something now. Or that you'll eat something after. Something good. Something nutritious. Something satisfying.

Food should not equal guilt.

Life after bulimia

I am at a point in my recovery where I have no problem talking about my eating disorder to most people. There are still members of my family who pretend my eating disorder never happened. Within the context of my family, it's a taboo subject that no one wants to acknowledge. I'm not sure if it's because acknowledging makes it real and they want to project the illusion that our family is perfect, or if it's just that they've never been able to understand the seriousness of it all.

Regardless, for the most part, I am open to talking about my anorexia. I am obviously open to writing about it. I am (God willing) teaching a 50-minute lecture about anorexia in poetry in December at the graduate school I attend in Los Angeles. I'm not scared for people to know I was anorexic. I don't mind talking about it. I want to create awareness. I want to admit that though my eating disorder is something I still struggle with, I've made progress and progress is possible.

But I've realized that my bulimia, well, that's an issue I'm not so comfortable opening up about. But why? Bulimia is just as serious as anorexia. It's just as frightening. It's just as devastating and damaging. I think the reason I have trouble owning up to my bulimia is that anorexics tend to think of bulimics as weak. Starving oneself becomes an act of skill and restraint, so binging and purging represent those instances of corporeality that the anorexic tries to suppress. If the anorexic wants control, bulimia is the loss of that control. At least, that's how it goes with my own experience. Certainly I no longer feel this way. I know that both anorexic and bulimic behavior is dangerous, deadly, and weak. Neither behavior signals strength. There is only strength in recovery, and I have recovered (and am still recovering) from both.

So why can't I talk about bulimia?

Why do I try so hard to forget?

Is it the physical act? Because it's so gross? Who wants to hear about vomit?

It's so much more than that. I'm not going to pretend that society understands eating disorders because I know that society does not. But even within the context of society, anorexia is typically glamorized whether directly or indirectly. Thinness prevails. It is to be aspired to. People make fun of bulimia, in my experience, far more so than anorexia. It's thrown around as an insult like it's something stupid, vapid girls do. I guess it's just harder for people to see bulimia as a legitimate eating disorder. It's about more than just throwing up after you've eaten. When I was bulimic, not throwing up after a meal was not an option. I had to throw up. I had no choice in the matter. I was throwing up 7 or 8 times a day when I was at my sickest. By that time, it was almost purely a physical reaction. I threw up without thinking about it. It's something my body learned to expect. It's like getting an itch and automatically reaching to scratch it without being fully cognizant of the action.

Only now can I see how horrifying it is.

How dangerous.

How could I have ever done that to myself?

Starving myself was bad enough. But then to give my body the food it needed so much only to take it away again? How badly I've mistreated myself. Maybe that's why I can't talk about my bulimia--because I'm ashamed.

I try to forget all of the time I spent bulimic. That entire segment of my life was chaotic and miserable. Part of not wanting to talk about being bulimic is inevitably my way of not wanting to remember those painful moments in my past. That was my rock bottom.

My God.

Whenever I feel like relapsing I think of those moments spent in agony crying on the bathroom floor. Sick from puking. Sick from laxatives. I remember the time I took NyQuil on an empty stomach because I felt so guilty and so ashamed of myself that I just wanted to sleep. I didn't care if I woke up again. I hadn't eaten in days. My body couldn't handle the medicine. I was falling asleep and throwing up at the same time. My mother found me passed out on the bathroom floor.

It seems like a dream.

It wasn't.

I feel so guilty for even remembering it.

That was four years ago. How did I ever make it back from that dark place? When I think that recovery is impossible I remember how far I have come.

I always tell people that there is most certainly life after anorexia. But that's only half of my story.

There is life after bulimia too.

Why recovery is worth it:

In recovery, you realize your body is special.

You are worth saving.

Life is too short to be miserable, sick, and hungry.

Food has a purpose. It fuels your body to give you the energy to live.

You will remember what it feels like to hope and to dream.

If you're healthy, you can actually begin to make them come true.

When you're free from your eating disorder, you are free. Your thoughts are your own.

You don't have to answer to anyone.

You don't have to lie to people or live a double life.

You don't have to feel guilty.

You don't have to hate yourself.

Food is not the enemy. You don't have to be afraid of food.

Your hair will stop falling out.

Your stomach will stop growling.

You won't be light headed.

And you won't gain a hundred pounds.

Eventually, you'll stop fighting with the mirror.

You will begin to trust yourself.

You will begin to take care of yourself.

You will begin to love yourself.

You can start over.

It's not too late.

You are worth saving.