Health

In a society that’s becoming increasingly more aware of environmental issues and improvements, as well as personal health choices in regards to food, I feel that it’s important to get as much information out to the young population as possible.
I decided to become vegan two years ago when a friend of mine requested a free vegetarian starter packet from PETA, and I realized that this is something that’s important to me. First, let’s define these terms. A VEGETARIAN is someone who abstains from eating meat. This is the umbrella term under which various other terms fall, such as ovo vegetarian (eats eggs), lacto-ovo vegetarian (eats dairy and eggs), pescetarian (eats fish), and vegan.
Vegans abstain from consuming any products that come from animals. Vegans don’t eat honey, fish, diary, or eggs, or anything that contain these products. That means no marshmallows or Jell-O (they contain gelatin, which is made by grinding up animal bones), only milk-free chocolate, and none of those honey crackers! Vegans also often don’t wear anything that comes from animals, such as leather, wool, or silk.
Depending on your background, veganism can be either very difficult to imagine or very easy. Being from Texas, it’s hard for my family and friends back home to understand this lifestyle choice and I’ve been called “pretentious” before. I’ve faced a lot of adversity making this change but it is definitely a process, one that I’m still going through today. People just don’t understand why someone would go against the norms, and in the case of animal rights, a lot of people just don’t want to think about it.
People become vegetarians and vegans for a wide variety of reasons. It’s well known that a diet high in fresh fruits and vegetables and low in meat contributes to a long life with less disease. So some make the change for health reasons. Others realize the inhumane, unregulated manner that animals are treated when bred and raised for slaughter, eggs, milk, etc, and decide that they want as much of a cruelty-free lifestyle as they can manage. Sometimes the choice is environmental – the rainforests are being destroyed to make land for cattle grazing, and the amount of food grown and fed to cattle that are going to be slaughtered could solve world hunger. The cattle also contribute CO2, a greenhouse gas causing the global warming scare, and the destroyed trees mean that there’s less foliage to absorb the CO2 and release oxygen.
Whatever the reason, veganism is an important and growing form of activism and lifestyle. Unfortunately there are a lot of vegetarians and vegans who give the lifestyle a bad name, indeed being pretentious or extreme, and turning a lot of people off (PETA is a good example).
I’m not saying you should run out and buy every vegan cookbook you can. I’m not saying you should throw out the meat in your freezer. In my perfect world, there would be no need to exploit animals, but I understand that it’s not so easy for others, or it doesn’t make sense to them. I plead, though, that you at least be kind to vegetarians. Don’t be hateful because they have a cause. It’s what they believe in and if they’re not shaming you, then don’t shame them back.
This article hardly covers what it means to be vegan, but I hope that it helps get some good information out from a quiet, definitely NOT pretentious girl who just strives for understanding. If you’re interested in more information, a simple search engine can provide you with plenty of websites with information. Be wary - there’s a lot of misinformation and craziness out there, but the online vegan community is large, welcoming, and helpful.
Veganism is a huge decision for people to make, for whatever reason. It takes time, thought, and effort, but it’s rewarding beyond imagination. To feel that simply with changing my dinner order I am able to take at least a small part in change does indeed change me.

Hey you all.
I’m not sure how rigidly computer access will be restricted while I’m in treatment, so I wanted to post before I leave. I think a good thing to post now would be my goals because then I can look back and see if I have fulfilled them. I also think these goals are worthy of anyone’s efforts, regardless of whether or not you have any eating problems.
TOP TEN GOALS (in no particular order)
1. Follow the program without trying to compromise with ED; i.e., during menu planning, instead of counting calories, pick what you’d most enjoy.
2. Form friendships with other girls and look beyond competition regarding shape and size or who is the thinnest.
3. To be HAPPY about reaching a healthy weight! That’s the toughest one.
4. Leave prepared to eat in a carefree, non-restrictive way, including “fun foods” (desserts, soda, etc.–basically everything I won’t eat now).
5. Leave with a mindset in which eating, exercising, wardrobe, and talk of food or dieting are not major sources of anxiety or obesession.
6. Fully committ myself to recovery by taking any desires to lose weight, starve, purge, or other ED thoughts with not even a grain of sand (or is it a grain of salt? What’s the expression?)
7. Stay in touch with at least a few close friends.
8. Become a less obsessive and anxious person in general and be less judgmental and nagative toward myself; improve confidence and self-esteem.
9. Alright, this sounds kind of heavy, but to become more spiritually attuned. I’ve noticed that this naturally goes with recovery. When I’m not so consumed with weight and food I can reflect on what really matters to me in life and who I am in the context of the world. I have also noticed that once I have a more positive aura I am more creative and more able to connect with other people.
10. What should my last goal be? I think ultimately to change the wiring in my brain my replacing self-harming and mean thoughts with loving and encouraging ones. This way, instead of getting myself down for eating a “fun food,” I can actually feel good about it. Also, if I change the way I percieve my own thoughts and feelings I can start to feel hunger again, and then I won’t have to follow a meal plan or obsess about servings because I will know what I need to eat.
That’s all for now. Wish me luck.

I have been debating for days over what to write. I started writing something, but today I am aware that, ironically, my eating disorder has kept me from writing about eating disorders. It is a complete distraction and emotional drainer. I am disappointed in myself for having gone backward and feel like I am letting down all of you who have supported me, but all I can write about right now is my personal story.
A few weeks ago I was getting ready for my school’s senior brunch when my mom came into my room with a tear in her eye. I was not expecting it. She simply said, “That dress used to fit you. Now it’s barely hanging on you. I think you should take that to heart.” Of course, I denied that I was the least bit underweight. Then my dad confronted me about how he had seen me restricting foods, especially high-fat foods and carbohydrates, and knew that I had been coming up with any excuse possible to go on a long walk. They were very upset that after going so far after day treatment I had ended up here again. I became overwhelmed as I, relieved by the weight I had lost and convinced that my stomach stuck out, heard my parents say they were taking control of my eating again and watched them plop a blueberry scone on my plate, which I had picked out at the store to appease my mom but hadn’t eaten. I was terrified that all the work I spent losing the weight would be for nothing, even though the logical side of me knew all along that it wouldn’t get me anywhere positive. I also dreaded the feeling I get when I gain weight—the feeling of being worthless, fat, and ugly. It’s something I have tried to get past over and over again. People say I have always been on the thin side but all I see is my impossibly large stomach and it makes me cry and have panic attacks and lose my sanity. I am such a mess.
My visit to the nutritionist that week confirmed I had lost weight. I had two weeks to meet my weight goal, or I would have to go back into a day or residential treatment. My therapist came up with a contract I would have to follow in order to stay home this summer and go to college in the fall. The idea of eating foods other than vegetables, chicken, and low fat yogurt shocked my addled, malnourished mind. I also felt very depressed because of the situation I had gotten my family and myself into. I realized my eating disorder had made me into someone I disliked; someone who cared more about how she measured up on the scale than how she came off to other people. I had gone to the prom several days before, and despite meeting my goal of losing five pounds, I felt unsatisfied and empty. Looking skinny in my dress seemed like the best part of the night. And that is sad. I also won five awards when I graduated, but I knew that the perfectionism and competitiveness that had caused me to excel academically would ultimately lead to my destruction if I didn’t act soon.
I lay on the steaming bricks on my backyard, staring at the roses, remembering how beautiful they once looked through eyes without eating disorder lenses. My obsession with losing weight had consumed me so much that little else mattered. I was thinking about food so constantly that I couldn’t take the time to just relax and enjoy life or celebrate my accomplishments. I was never happy because I was never thin enough. I looked up at the sky and for once enjoyed the peace of just being outside in nature and becoming part of its calming silence and stillness. “This is summer,” the rational voice inside of me said. “It’s supposed to be fun and carefree. Now you’re only miserable. What are you doing with your life?” That voice had not surfaced in a very long time.
Later that night, still sulking in my misery and defeat, I practiced driving with my dad. The strength inside of me knew I had to act now to regain my life, no matter what Ed was telling me. Despite Ed’s screams and protests, as we got into town, I asked my dad if he had any money. “I want to get an ice cream cone at Baskin Robbins,” I said with tears streaming down my face. “It’s the last thing in the world I want to do right now, but I have to keep pushing forward.” That was probably the hardest thing for me to do at that moment, but at the same time there was a sense of relief, a feeling that I could trust myself to salvage my own life. And you know what? Eating that ice cream cone outweighed all my academic awards put together. It was my proudest, most difficult accomplishment by far.
Once I started acting with my goals of getting a summer job, seeing my friends, going to college, and regaining my happiness in mind, things got easier. Over the next few days, an ice cream cone gave way to a brownie, a blondie, strawberry shortcake, and other foods I wouldn’t have dreamed of eating. I felt very scared of gaining weight, but I also felt free. Anorexia was not controlling my mind and or my actions. I was.
Unfortunately, I can’t say that’s the end of the story. Despite the level of determination I had, it wasn’t enough to get me through the week and gain any appreciable amount of weight. In fact, when my nutritionist visit showed the little progress I had made, I completely freaked out and vowed to lose weight. The torment I felt was unspeakable. I felt like a failure, a slob. I would be fat. “How could you give up like that, Suzy?!?” Ed screamed. “You have no discipline! You are a failure in life! Are you just going to throw away your opportunity to be thin? I worked so had for you, and this is how you repay me? Look how much your stomach sticks out. And you have such a big butt. You’re worthless. I hate you.”
I should have told Ed right then and there that if I had a big butt, he could kiss it. But “should” does not always equal “did.” In fact, before my two-week mark was up, it became very clear to all of us that I would need the support of a residential program. The truth is that I was barely managing to stay medically safe with my parents breathing over my shoulder, telling me when and what to eat. How could I survive college without the necessary tools?
On the one hand, I realize what I really need to do is to summon the determination I had when I ate that ice cream cone, grit my teeth, and do what I have to do. On the other hand, I also know I am too weak to handle the depressed and anxious feelings that come with this task without extra support. If I were able to kick off this eating disorder, I would have done it years ago. But here I was, going around in circles, convincing myself I could fight it and then slipping back into old patterns.
The differences between treatment at home and treatment in a residential facility are the following: 1) As an inpatient, you are constantly around people who understand your struggle and support you. At Renfrew in Philadelphia, the facility I am going to, each day is filled up with different types of group therapy. I agree with their philosophy that we can heal through positive relationships—with others, with ourselves, with food. 2) Having parents as meal coaches adds a lot of emotional baggage for the whole family. My parents grow emotionally exhausted, and mealtime becomes a power struggle. They grow extremely frustrated on the battlefield of the kitchen table. 3) Closer monitoring and more accurate measurement of weight, food intake, bathroom visits, exercise, use of pills and other weight-control methods, other medical conditions, and emotional state. 4) The earliest form of treatment of anorexia nervosa was to have the patient literally go on a vacation away from her family to regain her health. An inpatient facility mimics this approach; it clears out all commitments and has the patient spend a month—or however long she is there—completely focused on getting better. It also, as I said earlier, eliminates the emotional baggage related to family life that may contribute to eating problems.
I know it will be hard to be at Renfrew and to gain weight. But I also want to come out free of this burden that keeps me up at night and sucks the life out of every day. I want to lower the volume on the voice in my head that chants, from the moment I wake up to the second I fall asleep and then throughout my dreams, “You’re too fat. You need to lose weight. Do whatever it takes. Lie. Trick Mom and Dad. You must be thinner. If you disobey me you will never be good enough.” My psychiatrist says this is a good choice for me because I am not able to do this on my own, but I am motivated to recover.
If you have an eating disorder, it will tell you that it will make you happy and in control. It may live up to this promise for a while, but trust me—after several years, it will only have screwed up your life. I remember there used to be so much joy on camp visiting day. I would be ecstatic and energetic and overjoyed to see my parents. We would go out for the best meals and walk around and enjoy one another’s company. Yesterday, my dad reminding me of last year’s visiting day. My starving and purging had left me fuzzy-headed, irritable, and depressed, and all I could think of was how “fat” I had become. In turn, it just made my family depressed to see that, not only had I lost weight, but I was also clearly following a restrictive diet and obsessed with controlling my food intake. All of our thoughts were so consumed with these ugly truths that we didn’t enjoy the day one bit. My size was so far to the forefront of my mind that my family’s visit didn’t mean anything to me. I put on a smile to show everyone else, but I wasn’t fooling my own heart: I had become cold and indifferent.
This is why I am so desperate to get better. It will be such a waste if somebody with my talents and abilities has to spend her life consumed with an eating disorder—and I’m not being conceited; that’s true for anybody. It will make you feel good temporarily, but ultimately, you have to ask yourself, “Do I like the person I have become, and do I like the life I’m living?” Then, you have to realize that, regardless of your situation, you don’t have to live in a way that doesn’t make you happy. You have the choice, and you can act on it, whatever that means to you. Ed is like those mean girls in junior high: his words only have an impact on you if you let them. Don’t give him that power. If you’re like me and you already have given it to him, strive to take it back and regain your life–whatever it takes.

I’m glad that I have gotten a lot of great feedback from my blogs. Thanks to everyone who contributed. I was especially stricken by what someone named Breanne wrote as a response to my most recent blog. She wrote, “I think that these problems with people is mostly to get attention. Why else would they stave themselves or binge after eating. If they truly wanted to lose weight they could work out and do it the healthy way, but they take it to the extreme and think it is the only way out. Then they get put in the hospital. Girls these days are pressured a lot to look good but there are other ways of going about ‘losing weight’ if that’s all they want.”

I can only tell my story, but what I do know is that nobody in my situation asked for her eating disorder. It’s extremely important to understand that an eating disorder is a disease, not a choice. A crucial part in anyone’s recovery is to separate one’s own thoughts from eating disorder thoughts. Even those who are so brainwashed by Ed that they go on pro-ana/mia websites do not, in their heart of hearts, want to have eating disorders. We all have more profound dreams and goals for the future. Trust me–if I could magically get rid of my body dysmorphia, addiction to food withholding, low self-esteem, health problems, and the tremendous effect my illness has had on my family, I would give them up in a heartbeat—no questions asked! My friend describes it perfectly: “Its not cool and its not fun.” She adds, “Its embarrassing, and it makes college life very difficult. I can remember everyone else having so much fun in the dining hall, and I’d sit there with my black coffee and apple, barely able to bring myself to speak or chew. “ As you can see, having an eating disorder is a complete burden (I mentioned before that people who have to deal with eating disorders have a shockingly high suicide rate). It’s not an issue of vanity. It’s far worse and more serious than being selfish or shallow. I can’t tell you what exactly causes an eating disorder, but I do know that people who develop them later realize that they use them as coping mechanisms—in other words, it’s not actually about food.

As the individual becomes more entrenched in her eating disorder, her ability to resist it worsens because of its devastating physical affects. Many anorexics get to a point at which they just cannot get themselves to eat, no matter how much they want to save their lives. The girl I quoted above confessed to me that she wishes she were at a healthy weight so that she was strong enough to kick off her anorexia rather than let it back her into a corner. She has so much anxiety about eating and not exercising that she cannot normalize her behaviors on her own.

I too have experienced a period of panic in which Ed’s voice is so loud I feel utterly powerless in standing up to him. I want to say, “Go away, Ed! I don’t need you!” but I am too weak; if you want to use the kicking analogy, my leg is not powerful enough to knock Ed down. This is especially true for anorexics who are malnourished, and therefore too weak, physically and emotionally, to fight back.

As Breanne points out, if people with eating disorders simply wanted to lose weight, they would not go to such extremes as described above. The truth is that eating disorders are about so much more than weight. They reflect different issues for different people. Most have histories of depression or anxiety. Many feel that they are not “good enough” and use weight loss to compensate for their low self-esteem. Some are neglected by their parents and latch onto their eating disorders once they realize how much attention it brings them. But no one wakes up one day and thinks, “I don’t think I’m good enough, so I’m going to become anorexic,” or “I wish I had more attention so I think I’ll be bulimic now.” I mean, think about it—there are MUCH, MUCH better ways to get attention!! I have been through an eating disorder, so I can attest to how torturous it is for the person inflicted. Nobody would willingly put themselves through so much torment.

First of all, having an eating disorder means giving up your freedom. Ed doesn’t only take over your mealtimes—he fills every single part of your life with nonstop chatter about how much you eat or how fat you are. This was not the result I had in mind when I began to diet! I can’t remember a family vacation that I actually enjoyed in years because I had so much anxiety about the next meal. I want so, so badly to be able to eat and enjoy food like all my friends do and to actually respond to hunger instead of starving. The moment I move toward the food, though, my anxiety overwhelms me, and it’s so hard to get myself to stop restricting, even though I want to. The times I do succeed, I usually go through withdrawal, which makes my pain so unbearable that I can’t deal with the cessation of my eating disorder behaviors. It’s not fun.

Second of all, it messes with your mind. The eating disorder’s ultimate goal, as my psychiatrist says, is to kill you, and it will go to any lengths to deceive you into thinking it is your friend. Imagine being unable to think with a logical part of your brain. That’s what it is like. Trying to tell an eating disordered individual he or she is not fat or doesn’t need to restrict, binge, or purge, is like telling a paranoid he is not being followed, or telling someone with OCD that she doesn’t have to wash her hands compulsively. It’s a mental illness, not something you can control or wish away. People often say anorexics try to be in control, but their disease controls them, and that’s true. Most recovering anorexics want to eat normally, but the anorexia deceives you and says things like, “If you eat that cookie it will hinder your recovery because you could develop binge eating disorder,” or “That’s a normal, healthy portion size” (when it’s actually too small) or “Just because you’re trying to gain weight doesn’t mean you should eat fatty, sugary, or salty foods. They will damage your health.” Until I learned otherwise, these were the guidelines I went by because I didn’t recognize this voice as ED—I thought these were healthy thoughts, and that following them was in my best interest if I wanted to recover. When I first was diagnosed, I 100% wanted to recover, but sometimes I displayed old behaviors because Ed was disguising himself as a healthy voice instructing me to become healthier.

Third, it’s an addiction—like an addiction to drugs or tobacco. I remember when I first stopped making myself throw up because my psychiatrist informed me that purging makes people gain, not lose, weight (if you purge, try stopping now because not only does it screw with your body, it also slows down your metabolism—I lost weight when I stopped). The first few weeks were hell as I went through withdrawal. Because of the way an anorexic has conditioned herself to respond to certain behaviors, activities like purging release endorphins and provide a sense of comfort. Even though it is slowly destroying your body, your mind grows very dependent on it to stay sane. When I stopped, I experienced such magnified depression, anxiety, and body dysmorphia that I became suicidal. I certainly didn’t ask for that. The truth was that the more I purged, the louder Ed’s voice got. He told me that if I didn’t throw up, I would gain weight. After every meal, he screamed at me, saying that I would become a big fat pig. I certainly did not choose that either. It’s not cool.

Breanne, you are right—people with eating disorders do not simply want to lose weight; they have a variety of psychological complications that lead them to struggle with food. But they do not choose their eating disorders. Or, in the rare case that somebody actually aspires to have an eating disorder, he or she is not actually aware of what an eating disorder is and the pain it entails. These people only see the glamour, which is nonexistent once you have to drop your activities and schoolwork and end up in a hospital. I just want everyone to know that people with eating disorders do not find their thoughts and behaviors fun or cool—they find them painful, oppressive, and burdensome. And for those of you who envy people who achieve extreme weight loss, you would probably think otherwise if you had been at the table with me watching stick-thin girls with tears in their eyes as they lift forks up to their mouths in a desperate struggle to force themselves to do what is necessary to keep them alive and off of a feeding tube. These experiences are neither fun nor cool.