if you’re reading this in the united states, you are most likely aware that thanksgiving was celebrated this past week. if you’re reading this in the united states and struggle with an eating disorder or disordered eating, you are most likely very aware that thanksgiving was this past week. on thanksgiving i found myself having a conversation with some friends from treatment about how this day is extra hard for us, with festivities centered so much on food, and (usually) well-intentioned relatives making comments about our bodies or our eating habits that are more hurtful than they probably realize. i shared my fears of having to hear about how “healthy” and how much “better” i look, of meticulously planning out my plate and still not knowing what kind of comments i’d get, if it’d be “thats it?!”, “not enough”, or “you’re eating that?!”. i talked about how i was afraid i shouldn’t be eating that morning, or maybe not even the day before.
even though i had all of these fears that i’m fairly certain none of my other family members had, and even though the majority of these fears did in fact become realities, i was convinced i didn’t deserve to be a part of this conversation. i worried my eating disorder wasn’t real or serious enough to warrant me being a part of this conversation with people that i met in treatment for a diagnosed eating disorder about the struggles i was undoubtedly facing in that moment. comparison is a huge part of eating disorder culture, both in the recovery community and in people who are in the depths of their disorder. “so-and-so is sicker than such-and-such because so-and-so has been in the hospital for their disorder 17 times and such-and-such has only been in outpatient treatment.” or “so-and-so looks sicker than such-and-such because so-and-so is at a lower weight.” i’ve always had an excuse as to why i was more of a such-and-such in these situations and less of a so-and-so. when i was at my lowest weight i wasn’t “sick enough” because i wasn’t in the hospital. when i was in treatment i wasn’t “sick enough” because i’d been eating more right before my admission than i had been at other points in time. when i was throwing up six times a day i wasn’t “sick enough” because i looked “normal” enough for no one to notice.
i hate to admit it, but i’ve caught myself passing this judgement onto other people as well, as sort of a way to comparatively validate my struggles, “this person never went to treatment, and are able to say they’re fully recovered and refer to their disorder in the past tense. i don’t think i could ever do that, and i especially wouldn’t be able to without higher-level treatment, let alone no professional intervention at all. therefore, my disorder is real, serious, and valid, and theirs isn’t.” thats where i now know to stop myself. my disorder is real, serious, and valid, and so is theirs, regardless of how different they may be. butterflies and gorillas are both inarguably real animals that definitely exist, but they’re also definitely very different from one another, yet this does not make the butterfly any more real than the gorilla, or vice versa.
another issue with this type of thinking is that the only reason many sufferers have never been in a higher level of care, or even any level of care at all for some, is because treatment for eating disorders and other mental health disorders isn’t the most accessible thing in the world. i’m sure many people do recover on their own, but i’m also sure many who “recovered on their own” are still struggling but have stopped- or never even began- seeking help because they were aware that some insurance companies and some practitioners wouldn’t take them seriously because they were at a higher weight or because they were male, or maybe they knew their insurance didn’t cover any reputable mental health services at all. maybe they didn’t even have insurance. regardless of if inpatient is the optimal level for you and your disorder, or if outpatient (or iop, or php, or res, or whatever else) is a better fit, you deserve to be there and get the care that is most beneficial to you. you deserve to be informed about different treatment options and have access to them.
outside of treatment, people who struggle to any degree at all with their eating, deserve to be respected, avoid hurtful comments, and have the love and compassion of their loved ones communicated effectively, as opposed to in ways that can actually be harmful. most of the general public, at least from what i’ve seen, is not very well-educated on the subject of eating disorders and disordered eating. they don’t understand how their comments on our bodies can be damaging when they’re just trying to help, or show concern, or maybe compliment us on our “progress”. i don’t expect family members to ever fully understand, as how can they, if they’ve never suffered from this illness? but, it would be awesome, not only for me, but for other people who struggle with their eating, if our friends, family members, and acquaintances could be informed enough to avoid the uncomfortable conversations, the conflict, and the unintentional additions to our already persistent battles.
real. raw. audrina. 