It’s eating disorder awareness week, and what usually cascades are an abundance of images and descriptions of those who are physically very unwell, frail, and have the “visual” representation of what people stereotypically see as someone with an eating disorder.
I was that person. This week would roll around, and out would come a post of me showcasing my “sickest” self, pictures that would make people see just how unwell I truly was. What people did not realise was this was more a current representation of how unwell I still was, even if I did not look like those images anymore.
An eating disorder is a mental illness and is not a one-size-fits-all, excuse the pun. Yes, I was once visually attached to tubes, wires, and medical devices to keep me alive due to starvation, but I was also once a girl who had none of that and was probably mentally in a place much worse than when I was.
This is the danger of eating disorder representation, because usually, only those who are deemed to look like the stereotypical anorexic are showcased when in reality, the spectrum is much broader and often much more deadly. There are multiple eating disorders: Anorexia Nervosa (typical and atypical), Bulimia, Binge-eating disorder, ARFID, and more.
Anyone can be impacted and affected by an eating disorder, no matter what age, weight, sex, or ethnicity. Statistically, more people who suffer with an eating disorder are not underweight than those who are and are underweight. Weight does not and should not be used as an indicator of how unwell someone may be. Yet, I was less supported when I did not look stereotypical. This is one of the reasons people are still dying of an eating disorder. Old textbook stereotypes are being used to incorrectly treat, manage, and triage those who are struggling and push aside those who need help the most.
Anyone can struggle with an eating disorder. Anyone. So why is it that services priorities are either a postcode lottery or for those who would be considered a crisis situation?
Early prevention, intervention, and management of eating disorders is key. But this is hard to do in the current state of services neglected directly by lack of government funding and overall understanding of the seriousness and fatal consequences of lack of treatment. Eating disorders do not discriminate and have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness.
The reason eating disorders are so deadly? From the perspective of someone suffering with an eating disorder, “enough” does not exist. What once may have been the end goal at the finish line for your eating disorder, the point where you will “stop,” quickly becomes the starting line. You crave more and more of your eating disorders’ beliefs, habits, and behaviours until the only thing left to do is disappear completely.
The issue when you’re trying to get help? You often only get support when you’re on the cusp of disappearing completely, and thereby comes the need more often than not for more intensive treatment and services, often more traumatic interventions, and a battle that should have been interjected before it got to that point.
When people asked me how they could support me when I was struggling with my eating disorder, I would tell them that they couldn’t—that nothing they would or could do would change how I was or felt. I would tell them I did not want help. I did not want to change, and that, in fact, I did not need support because I was fine. I’d even push so far that I would tell them that I was happy. Now, as someone who has recovered from their eating disorder? I would say this:
Don’t give up on them. DO NOT. I had so many people give up on having hope for me and my recovery because after nearly a decade of suffering, I became a lost cause. Or so they thought. Whilst my stubborn self is enjoying the reward of the many told-you-so's I am giving out to those people who gave up, part of me grieves that struggling young girl who wanted those around me to tell me that no matter what, they believe that I could have beaten this illness.
One thing that helped me was seeing other people do life. I could not be part of this as I was too unwell for some of the pinnacle years of my tweenhood and early adulthood, and as much as it sounds cheesy, the FOMO was real. I had to learn the hard way, and I had to be forced to watch other people's lives carry on without me. Family and friends holidays I never got to go on, big celebrations I had to miss. Eventually, I was starting to just not be invited to things anymore. Learning that life will go on without you was a big reality check for me in those later years of my disorder and really provided the foundation to keep motivated in recovery.
Do not just assume that the person struggling with the eating disorder will not have any food or drink when you are with them. Encourage them to join in and keep doing so. You might ask 49 times, and the 50th time will be when they say yes. Give them that space to act encouraged, empowered, and safe in. Do not make food any less normalised than it already is to them.
In short, do not isolate them. Isolation is a big catalyst for rapid deterioration. I know firsthand how much eating disorders thrive off of secrecy. Even if they cannot come out and do things with you, keep them in the loop; remind them that you miss them and are looking forward to having them join you again. Make plans and, most of all, be patient. We need time. Eating disorders are often not pure. There is a catalyst or a reason we develop them. Everyone is different, and their reasons for using disordered eating as a coping mechanism will be different. Mine was complex trauma, and that meant that until I started to deal with, process, and heal from that, I always went back to my anorexia in one way or another. Give people time but remind them that no matter what, you will support them through it.
Anyone can suffer with an eating disorder, but most importantly, every single person who does can recover.