Describing an eating disorder to someone who has never experienced one is like trying to explain why someone would go outside in a snowsuit in 140-degree weather and lay on the beach. It makes no sense. But to every single person who has, or has had, an eating disorder (Ed), the explanation is far from simple.
The complicated twists and turns of the mind can feel like they’re controlled by an outside remote or a puppeteer, or more aptly defined – a demon named Ed.
In my years of suffering from Ed’s grasp, I was afraid to explain what I believed was happening to me – even as I moved closer to abstinence from Ed’s behavior – for fear that those closest to me would know I was still struggling.
It’s taken me nearly 8 years to untangle many of the webs that he sewed and to retrace so many horrific steps to see how cunningly he took hold of me, and how he grasps so many others. Here is the best way I can explain an eating disorder and the stages of recovery:
Stage 1: I was sitting home all alone. A content teenager, with the world ahead of her. I cared about my grades, was looking forward to winning a triple-jump record in track, and enjoyed playing tennis and basketball. I was flipping through the channels on the TV when something began banging on the door. When I opened it, something forcefully pushed its way through, and I found myself bound, gagged, and being brainwashed on the spot.
Stage 2: The knocking began again at the door. I was scared, but I let it in this time. It didn’t speak, but it shadowed me, and it even began sleeping in bed with me. As sick as it sounds, some nights it was comforting.
Stage 3: The doorbell rang, and I ran to open it. The “thing” told me his name. His name was Ed. He told me everything was going to be okay – he was going to help me. He whispered in my ears and told me stories about the beautiful life we were going to have. Ed loved me. He and I did everything together.
Stage 4: Ed and I moved in together. He was my best friend. He was my confidante. He told me it was better that we hang out together instead of going out with my friends. I didn’t need any other friends. Ed kept all my secrets.
Stage 5: Ed pushed the unlocked door open with “medicine” to help me get better. I was so sick. I was painfully thin. I was vomiting. My teeth hurt. My skin looked awful. My face was gaunt. My heart skipped a beat. My potassium was low. I was anemic. Ed was going to make me better.
Stage 6: I took Ed’s key after my family realized we were living together. They were worried about me and saw I was very ill. He started knocking again. I told him it would be good if we started looking for separate places. I was scared.
Stage 7: Ed began banging on the door night and day because I wouldn’t let him in. He also began throwing notes attached to bricks with fire, breaking the glass through my windows.
Stage 8: Ed would leave notes on my front door, reminding me he is always there. Sometimes he would slip notes under the front door. I would find them floating through the house.
Stage 9: Realizing I’m not opening the door any longer, Ed would continue to attempt to reach me and enter my home and my head in any sneaky way possible. He would write me letters, and when I would check my mail, I would bring his notes into my home after checking my mailbox. Sometimes his notes would be stuck to chewed gum I would peel off the bottom of my shoe.
Stage 10+: Now in recovery, while I’m inactive from all disordered eating behaviors, I still find the occasional sticky note from ED on the door. At this point, I can read it, rip it up, and throw it in the trash where it belongs. Sayonara, Ed. I have a new man in my life.
Now… here is the tricky thing about these Steps.
At any given point, unless someone is firmly in Stage 10, Ed can cunningly draw a victim back to any prior stage.
He is incredibly devious.
In order to reach Step 10 and beyond, one needs to be totally and completely dedicated to their recovery and receiving the proper medical and psychological care to help keep Ed at bay.
It IS possible to close the door on Ed!
If you or anyone you know is struggling with Ed, please reach out.
I would love nothing more than to help you team up against him.