In my first visit to the therapist, she asked me why I was there. "I have issues with food." I mean, obviously. I explained how I had always felt like I was probably a compulsive over-eater, but what brought me to her office was stress.
Last December, when I almost died, it kind of fucked me up. I mean, I had the typical thoughts about the meaning of life, the purpose of my life, the point of it all. Who am I? Why am I here? Why am I still alive when I should probably be dead?
The health issues that went along with all of that have been ongoing for the past 8 months. The temporary shit bag. The sepsis recovery. When I got out of the hospital, I weighed 181 pounds. That was the lowest I have weighed since I was probably 16 years old. But I had dropped 20+ pounds in a matter of 14 days or so. For the first time in my life, the goal was to gain weight. Mostly because I looked like a deflated balloon.
I have spent my entire life trying to lose weight since being put on Weight Watchers at the age of 9 by my parents. Losing weight has always been the goal. Never would I have thought I would even get to 181, not less that once I got there I would feel like I needed to gain weight. In hind sight, I probably didn't need to gain weight. I was just really sick... and looked really sick.
But in my mind, it was an excuse to eat. I had to take antibiotics three times a day for months. It was pretty much required to take them with food because they made me throw up otherwise. Which was another excuse to eat. Specifically to eat more than I had been, or more than I thought I should be. And everyone was so concerned about how bad I looked as a sick person, no one said anything about me eating whatever I wanted.
Of course, this came within the confines of someone who is post gastric sleeve surgery. My stomach is only the size of a banana anyhow. But it was almost like an excuse in my head for eating that I hadn't had in a while. After losing enough weight to be healthier (off of pre-diabetes meds, off blood pressure meds, off cholesterol meds, being able to do more without pain, etc)... I had this constant fear that if I ate too much, I would stretch my stomach back out. Gastric sleeve saved my life. I didn't want to screw it up.
I found myself working from home, in a room next to the kitchen. I was eating all day. I mean, I can't eat that much at any given time, but little bits all day long. I realized I had reverted into some very old patterns of behavior one day when I noticed that it was 5 pm and I hadn't drunk anything all day. I was literally not consuming any liquids just so I could eat every hour or so.
That was the point I recognized a problem that I needed to address. Sitting in her office, my therapist started to ask me a series of questions about eating and my thoughts about food. And within that first visit, she said the words "binge eating disorder". I mean, I knew I had issues with food, but to call it this was something I wasn't really anticipating.
She said that a certain personality type typically describes people who later may suffer from binge eating disorder. Specifically, someone who is a caregiver, unable to say no, low self-esteem, people pleaser. Something happens (an event or trauma) as a child that makes this person feel like a victim, and they use food to cope and feel better. Which basically starts a cycle of using food as a coping mechanism.
I have spent the last week or so really thinking about my childhood and what I felt may have been my event... or group of events. I have also been thinking a lot about my relationship with food as a child. So far, I don't understand where it came from or what event precipitated this behavior.
My earliest memory of eating this way occurred when I was 3 or 4 years old. My grandaddy used to buy a jar of maraschino cherries whenever he went to the grocery. I LOVED them. I remember that he and nana would put them on the top shelf of the refrigerator door so I wouldn't be able to reach them.
I would sneak into the kitchen, drag the chair over to the refrigerator, get the cherries, and take them to the back room of nana's house. It was a storage room where the furnace was and for the most part I didn't like it because it was dark and kind of scary. But I would take my jar of cherries back there and eat them in the dark. All of them. And drink the juice. I have no idea what would make a 4-year-old do that.
Of course, I felt all kinds of guilt afterwards. Nana and grandaddy would get onto me about eating all of the cherries. And then, they would buy more when they went to the store. I know that at least some of my issues with food come from nana. She was a product of the depression and she loved you by feeding you. I distinctly remember going to her house as an adult and as soon as you walked through the door she would start offering to make you whatever food she had available. It was just her way.
But what I don't know is how I made this connection of coping by eating things. I remember eating the cherries and wanting all of them and not being able to stop eating them until they were gone. Almost possessively. Like if they found me with the cherries, they may take them this time and there would never be any more after that.
This is just the earliest example I remember from my childhood of feeling this way about food. Which is not very common considering most people develop an eating disorder in their teen years. I am hopeful to get to the bottom of the source of my disordered thinking, but after many days of trying to figure it out, I am at a loss.
My parents separated when I was in kindergarten. They were divorced when I was in the first grade. I remember them arguing when we all still lived together. I don't remember that it was scary or traumatizing, I just know that when he told me they were getting a divorce, I felt relieved that they wouldn't be mad at each other anymore. I know during the separation, I stayed with nana for a few weeks. I don't know that I felt any sense of abandonment about it. I remember her asking me if I wanted her and grandaddy to adopt me. I told her I already had a mom and dad.
But all of this happened *after* I was already possessive of my cherries. By the time I was in kindergarten, I was already the fat girl. I remember nana buying my dress for kindergarten graduation and having to hem it. The size that fit around my torso was about 6 inches too long. What was the thing that made this little girl do this?
I kind of have an odd set of beliefs about spirituality and the afterlife. I do believe in reincarnation. I sometimes wonder if this particular part of me came as a residual from a previous life. Was my lesson in this lifetime supposed to be about food? Was I so poor in a prior life that the abundance of food at nana's house was a temptation I couldn't ignore? Did I struggle with the same problem in a past life as well?
I think I spent a lot of years blaming things outside of myself for my weight or eating habits. I ate too much because nana loved me with food. I liked ice cream and sweets because nana gave them to me when I was upset as a child. My tumor (only my tumor) made me gain 150 pounds between the ages of 15 and 25. I need to eat this because my blood sugar is low. One more piece of pizza won't hurt. The restaurant gave me this portion, it must be the right amount.
I cannot blame binge eating disorder for being obese. Nor whatever trauma or event that happened when I was a kid that triggered it. I can only move forward with the knowledge that this is a problem for me and I am the only one who can address it. If there was anything I would change about the course of my life, it would be that my tumor was diagnosed earlier and that I recognized this eating disorder for what it was sooner.
I figured the best way for me to be able to explain myself and where I am coming from in the upcoming blog posts is to provide a point of reference. So the following is a timeline of my life by my weight. It is interesting that this is how I think of my life. Periods of diet, losing weight, and gaining it. Every phase shrouded by some form of over-eating, dieting, over-compensating, starving myself, exercising, etc.
I feel like it has been a never ending cycle. And although I know that lots of people struggle with their body image, I don't think the average person can quote you exactly what they weighed in every period in their life. Probably because their self-worth wasn't directly tied to the weight registering on the scale.
Age 3 - Pre-school - ~45 pounds
My first memory about food revolves around cherries. Grandaddy used to buy a jar of maraschino cherries whenever he went to the grocery. And I LOVED them. He and nana would try to hide them on the top shelf of the refrigerator so I couldn't get to them. But I would drag the kitchen chair over and stand on it to get to them.
I would take them into the back room (basically a storage area where the furnace was located) and eat them. All of them. And drink the juice. I think I was probably 3 or 4. I remember that I felt ashamed afterwards because they would get onto me about eating all of the cherries. But they always bought more the next time they went to the store.
Age 5 - Kindergarten - ~60 pounds
This was probably the first time I ever knew that I was heavier than other kids. I remember that the clothes I wore to school were from the pretty plus section of Sears. I also recall that nana bought me a kindergarten graduation dress that had to be hemmed about 6 inches because once they found one that would fit my torso, it was entirely too long.
At graduation, one of nana's friends told her "she has such a pretty face, it's too bad she's so heavy". I remember nana angrily replying, "she's pretty either way" in response. I don't know my exact weight at this age because a scale hadn't been introduced as my measure of worth quite yet. But I already felt like part of the "other".
Age 9 - Third grade - 99 pounds
This weight is actual. I remember because I was put on Weight Watchers and this was my starting weight. I don't remember them giving me a goal. I just remember that all of the food was categorized into three groups: red light foods, yellow light foods, and green light foods. All of the sweets that I loved were in the red light category which was on restriction. Yellow light foods I could eat in moderation. And I could eat however much I wanted of the green light foods (mostly veggies and some fruits).
This was probably the first time in my life that I learned that I couldn't eat what I wanted or even eat like other kids. It was also the first time I felt like I needed to lose weight. I don't think this was something that I consciously wanted to do. And so sneaking around and eating red light foods whenever I could was pretty much my goal. I don't recall that I lost any weight. Probably just lost self-esteem.
I know that my parents/grandparents probably thought this was a good solution because at the time I was coming home from school every day crying about being picked on for being fat, either on the playground or in PE. I remember that my uniforms (Catholic school jumpers) had to be altered every year because the ones that were big enough to fit around me were for teenagers and far too long waisted. In hindsight, I think that maybe the food choices for what I was eating probably shouldn't have been left up to me at this age.
Age 13 - Seventh grade - 188 pounds
The seventh and eighth grade students had lunch together. I remember sitting in the cafeteria and my friend giving me a hard time because the eighth grade boys were staring at me. My best friend Summer of course surmised one of them had a crush on me. But they were watching me eat and making pig noises under their breath. I guess it didn't occur to her that they would be mocking me.
I begged nana to do something to help me. Nutri-System was a new diet at the time. They made an exception for me and had my parents sign a bunch of waivers, and I was the youngest Nutri-System client they had ever had. They told me my goal was 107 pounds based on my height. But that I shouldn't think of it as having to lose 80 pounds. They set my first goal at losing 40 pounds. In the end, this was all that I lost.
I remember that the food was horrible and I hated eating it. My family ate what they always did, and I stuck to the diet. I took the Nutri-System food to school every day. I even remember we had a pizza party as a class at Pizza Hut during this time and they allowed me to bring my little Nutri-System pizza with me. It worked partially. But I was so happy with how I looked at 145 pounds that I quit before I tried to lose the other 40 pounds.
Age 15 - Freshman year - 145 pounds
Fresh off of Nutri-System, I felt like I was an average girl. My mom bought me some clothes from The Limited in a size large. I remember being so excited I could shop at a regular store for once. Even the shoes I was wearing were smaller than before (from a size 10 to an 8).
But when I went to get my uniform before my freshman year of school started, I was sent back into the fat girl category. The skirts for the high school didn't come in a size that would fit me. Fortunately (?) one of the grade schools in Memphis used the same plaid in their skirts for the summer uniform and they had a bigger size for some reason. The winter uniform skirt had to be custom ordered. Even at the lowest weight I had ever been, I was still fat.
It is important to note that my mom took me to the OB/GYN at this time because I still hadn't started my period. The doctor said she didn't see anything out of the ordinary and I was probably just a late bloomer. The truth is that I had a tumor on my pituitary gland in my brain that was probably in its early stages of growing at this time. It affected my hormones, and most importantly my insulin levels, and was not diagnosed until I was 19. I bring this up because having insulin running rampantly through your bloodstream makes you hungry. ALL. OF. THE. TIME.
Age 16 - Sophomore year - 170 pounds
This weight isn't very significant because I was on any particular diet. Losing weight was something I was always "trying" to do. But, when I turned 16, my uncle gave me his car to drive. This translated into me getting a job to have "my own money" and I was responsible for taking my little brother to and from school (he was in kindergarten at the time).
To me, it was freedom to eat how I wanted. If I wanted Oreos, I had my own money to go buy them for myself and hide them in my room. Nana gave me a credit card for gas money but it ended up being a McDonald's card. Kholt and I would go to McDonald's on the way home from school on more days than not. He was usually only interested in the toy and a few french fries anyhow, so I was eating his happy meal plus whatever I got for myself, plus dinner when we got home.
I think the tumor was partially responsible for the weight I was gaining, but I already had a weird relationship with food. The fact that I could sit down to a three course meal and be hungry again 30 minutes later is not normal. I remember going to a steak dinner with my dad's family during this time. When we got home, I made myself a sandwich. When I walked out of the kitchen, the look of shock on his face was surprising. "I don't know how you can even eat that after everything you just ate at the restaurant." If anything, being hungry all of the time made me hide the food I was eating to avoid whatever judgment or shame I would feel.
Age 18 - Senior year - 199 pounds
I remember nana telling me over and over again that I didn't need to be a "200 pound teenager". For some reason, I convinced myself that a teenager that weighs 199 pounds did not meet this stigma. I rented my prom dress from a formal rental place. I realize how old that makes me sound since nobody rents dresses anymore. Actually, even at the time, nobody rented dresses. But this was the only place I could find a dress that would fit me for the occasion. A size 24. At prom.
I went with a friend I had met at Search. I was 18 and had never been on a date. No one had ever had a crush on me. I had never been kissed. Since I also didn't have any hormones (thanks to the tumor), this wasn't as big of a deal to me at the time as you might think it should have been. I didn't receive validation from anyone because I was pretty, only because I was smart, or creative, or because I could sew, or because I brought food I cooked to school for the girls at lunch.
It never occurred to me that I could be pretty. I was just me. I didn't wear make-up. And for the most part, just wore t-shirts and jeans or shorts because that is all that would fit me. Everything I wore came from Catherine's Stout Shop and it wasn't like they had a youth line of clothes. Everything looked like something they wore on the Golden Girls.
Age 19 - College year 2 - 250 pounds
I didn't gain the Freshman 15 that everybody gains in college. It was more-so the Freshman 50. Being completely away from home meant that I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Papa John's pizza had a student special at the time. One large one-topping pizza, one order of breadsticks, and two 12-ounce cans of Coke for $5. It was something that I frequently shared with someone else in the dorm, halved. But sometimes I would order it and eat it all myself.
I remember that Blimpie's was on the strip by campus and sometimes they did two for one foot-long sandwiches. I would go get them with the intention of eating a 6 inch and saving the rest for later meals. I would get home and eat the foot-long instead of the six inch. And sometimes I would eat both of the foot-longs with both bags of chips.
I decided I wanted to try to lose weight and Fen-Phen was the craze at the time. A magic pill that would make you not hungry and people were losing weight like crazy. It wasn't even legal in Tennessee, so I made an appointment and went to a doctor in North Carolina to get it. She wouldn't give it to me. See... I still didn't have a period. I never got it when I was 16 like the doctor thought I would. And I just never mentioned it again.
Well, she said I needed to figure out why I didn't have a cycle before I started a drug like that. I made an appointment at the student health clinic. I remember the doctor there told me I was her only interesting case because she was usually treating STDs, the flu or confirming pregnancy. I went for an MRI and my tumor was diagnosed.
Age 20-22 - The rest of college - ~250 pounds
I spent most of college going from dieting to binging. Sometimes I was trying to eat better and sometimes I was just eating whatever I wanted and drinking a lot (typical at UT). I had a group of friends that seemed to like being around me whether I was fat or not. I was kind of a bitch and came out of my shell.
But my weight never really changed much. Of the myriad of diets I tried around this time, I could usually lose 10 or 15 pounds, and then gain it back. I graduated from college a virgin, never had a relationship. I remember my mom asked me one time if I was a lesbian. She figured since I was never talking about dating any guys, maybe I just wasn't telling her I was dating a girl.
Honestly, I probably should have tried it out. The body ideal for a woman (particularly a straight one) in the mid 90s was the thinness of Rachel and Monica on Friends. Kate Moss and her waif model body was everywhere. I probably could have rocked the butch lesbian thing. Reflecting on it now, a lot of people probably thought I was a lesbian at the time anyhow.
Age 27 - Third job out of college - 298 pounds
I was seeing my endocrinologist pretty regularly at this point in my life. There was a period after I graduated college at my first few professional jobs when my tumor went untreated. At the time, pre-existing condition clauses on health insurance were pretty common. Since a specialist doctor visit, plus blood work could run upwards of $500 (not including meds), I opted to just not go.
But after I started working at FTN, I stayed in the job long enough to make it past the pre-existing condition clause and made an appointment. I remember weighing at her office. 298 pounds. I freaked out. I remembered nana's words about me being a 200-pound teenager. A 300-pound adult was a little too much to bear.
Age 29 - Lowest adult weigh (at that point) - 208
I decided to try Nutri-System again. On their updated plan, you were supposed to supplement their food with fruits and veggies for a healthy diet. I decided I was going to only eat the Nutri-System instead. It was probably about 700 calories a day. But I lost like 40 pounds in two months. I lost another 40 pounds over the course of the next several months. I lost down to 208 pounds. It was the lowest I had ever weighed as an adult.
Of course, as soon as I was not eating the Nutri-System anymore, I started gaining weight. But at the time I was roommates with my gay best friend who was also super critical of everything I consumed. Some of the weight came back slowly over time, probably about 20 pounds.
Age 31 - Traveling job - 250 pounds
Right around the time I turned 30, I took a job traveling and began what I would consider my first real relationship. Traveling every week for work meant eating out at restaurants for pretty much every meal and most of the time it was fast food. My first real relationship didn't help much with my self-esteem.
I was gaining weight pretty consistently because I didn't really have control over the food I was eating. I remember even trying to go back on Nutri-System while traveling. Of course that didn't work. The boyfriend was a dick head who cheated on me and strung me along for a few years. So he pretty much killed whatever self-esteem I had.
And then nana died. I remember coming home from the hospital that morning. I made myself a frozen pizza and I ate all of it. Then I made a pan of brownies and I ate all of that too. Then I made chocolate chip cookies. I was about a dozen cookies in before I even realized that I was sick to my stomach. I don't ever recall binging like that before that point. I mean, I was always sneaking food and hiding how much I ate and in general not eating what I should in the right quantities. But I had never just eaten and eaten and eaten to the point that if I literally ate another bite I was going to throw up.
I went to therapy for grief counseling. It was also instrumental in creating some self-esteem after my ex had pretty much destroyed it. I quit my traveling job and went back to FTN. I joined a gym with my long time friend KC and went religiously. My weight fluctuated plus or minus 10 pounds for years. I was in better shape just because I was stronger, but I never really made any progress towards being a healthier weight.
I remember when my therapist and I decided that I had accomplished what I needed to while under her care for grief and depression. She recommended that I continue therapy with another doctor who specialized in eating disorders. Although food issues were not part of what we were attempting to address, it was obviously something she saw me struggling with. I thought I didn't need that.
Age 36 - Got married - 270 pounds
Dave and I probably spent the three years we dated before getting married mostly eating and having sex. The first six months, we only saw each other every Wednesday: hump day. We hung out, watched movies, had sex, and ate Mexican food.
As we hung out more often, we expanded to other kinds of restaurants. I remember one night suggesting we stop for ice cream after we had just eaten dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. We went to Sonic and each got a large Sonic Blast. The girl on the speaker asked if we were sure we wanted a large because they were $6 each. I thought that was a ridiculous question until the car hop brought them to the car. They were in like Route 44 cups. What was more ridiculous was that we ate all of them.
I remember the day we eloped, the day of the Mayan apocalypse (12-21-12). We got a cake with the Mayan calendar on top that said "It's Not The End Of The World". It was three layers with raspberry filling in between. I think the bakery said it was a cake to feed maybe 40 people. We ate it. I mean, not that day. But within that week.
Age 38 - Gastric Sleeve - 255 pounds
Dave and I decided after 5 years of eating ourselves into an early grave that we wanted to be healthier. The catalyst was going out west and seeing the Grand Canyon and the Colorado mountains together. We wanted to be able to hike and not be the fat couple everywhere we went.
We lost the required 20% of our body weight the insurance required before they would approve us for surgery. Honestly, this was done through some pretty extreme measures of eating about 500 calories a day. We had the gastric sleeve surgery one week apart in March of 2014. We were both 38 and wanted to live longer lives with each other.
Post surgery, you have a pretty restrictive diet because your body is still healing and you don't want to explode your stomach. The first few weeks it's liquids and Jello. Then you move on to soft foods for a few weeks: soups, pudding, mashed potatoes. I remember that my brother ordered pizza during this time and I snuck and ate a piece of it. I could have exploded my stomach and died, but that piece of pizza was more important in that moment.
Age 40 - Post op - ~200 pounds
Settling into eating a lot less after surgery, I lost down to about 193 pounds. But my weight has always fluctuated and though that was the lowest, my weight pretty much settled around the 200 pound mark. My gastric sleeve surgeon would say that I am not a success story because I didn't lose down to the normal range of the BMI chart. For my height, that would be 135 pounds.
But I had never felt better. I could buy clothes in regular stores. The clothes at Lane Bryant and Torrid were actually too big. I felt better. I was able to get off of the meds I was taking for pre-diabetes, high cholesterol, and high blood pressure. My endocrinologist was ecstatic about my progress.
Age 41 - Almost died - 181 pounds
What is there to say. My lowest weight as an adult came as a result of sepsis and almost dying. I lost 20+ pounds in a matter of 14 days. I didn't like the way I looked and I wanted to gain some weight back. It is the first time in my life I have ever consciously tried to gain weight. Honestly, it was a HUGE excuse to eat what I wanted in a bigger quantity than I should.
Age 41 - Current - ~200 pounds
My weight has settled back in to right around where it was before the sepsis. I am comfortable at this weight. But I still feel fat. I still feel like I should weigh less. I definitely still have issues with food. Gastric sleeve was a tool I used to help me with my binge eating disorder, but it cannot fix it.
I feel like I am about to embark on a new part of my life with the help of this therapist to get to the root of the reason why I have always had a love affair with food. I am hopeful that I will be able to overcome the destructive thought processes and behaviors I have fallen back into.
Maybe food can just be the thing that keeps me alive, rather than something I live for.
Writing is my way of working through things sometimes and I have come to a crossroads in my life (well, another one). I guess it has been a long time coming, but I am currently at a place where I feel like I can come to terms with some things and work on myself.
About 6 years ago, I posted a note on Facebook about food addiction. More specifically, that I was/am addicted to food and how hard it is to overcome an addiction you have to partake in some way every day, only in moderation. I guess the best place to start with this blog is with the entry from that time. Because it is essentially where this story begins (sort of).
From August 21, 2011:
I’m an addict…
I use every day. Sometimes to the point that I pass out. Sometimes to the point that I make myself sick. Some days I keep things in moderation… not going too far. I think about using when I wake up. I think about when I can use next. I plan out using the night before for the next day. Sometimes I hide how much I use… or lie about even having the urge. People would probably judge me for it… wait… people do judge me for it.
I have put my health in jeopardy. I have mistreated my body and it is fighting back… or dying a little… but I continue to be destructive anyway. Sometimes nothing else satisfies the urge. Sometimes it is the only thing on my mind. Sometimes it is the only thing that will make things better. What time is it… is it time yet… how much… is that too much. Then I control it obsessively so I don’t feel so out of control.
My drug… my drug is food. Very funny, Mary, we all thought you were addicted to heroin. Nope. Not heroin. A heroin addict can go to treatment and abstain for the rest of their life. What can I do… never eat again? I have an addiction… but I am forced to sustain myself by partaking in it every day. Just in moderation. Do you think an alcoholic can drink every day… but only one glass? Didn’t think so.
I watch Intervention on TV. I hear people talk about addiction and how they feel and I identify with them. I have never done any heavy drugs… but I identify because that is how food is for me. It can change my mood to make me feel better. If I have too much I get sick. I think about it all the time. I hide it from other people. I want it more when I am down or have a bad day. I don’t think anyone understands. I wish it was as simple as treatment and abstaining… but it isn’t.
I have started a new eating plan. I control what I eat, and the portion sizes and I abstain from danger zones like Baskin Robbins or Pei Wei. And I am losing weight. I am proud of myself for that. But every day I wonder if I can keep it up. So far it has been four weeks. But I wish people understood how this feels. It isn’t just a matter of going on a diet or walking three times a week. It is an addiction I think about every day, for which I am presented temptation every day, and in which I have to partake every day. Just in moderation.
Sometimes I think it would be easier to be recovering from using heroin… at least then I would be thin.
I think that is an accurate representation of my feelings about food at the time (and in general). These photos were taken around the time I posted this.
I can say with certainty, the meal plan I am speaking of did not work (for me). I lost the commitment to it, or my health at some point. Secondly, I only got fatter and my eating more out of control over the next few years. For me, admitting that I was addicted to food was a big deal. Prior to that point, I was just fat and obviously ate more because my stomach was larger than the average adult's stomach would be. And I loved food, but I kind of thought everybody did.
Seeing this in my memories struck a chord with me. Not because I feel like I have overcome it, but because I haven't. Taking this a step further, I have come to realize most recently that if I am to be completely honest with myself, I am not just addicted to food, I have an eating disorder (binge eating disorder). I have been for my first visit to a therapist to help me with this (big step). I am hopeful that it will help me, but at the same time realistic that this is going to be a life long battle and it will probably never be easy.
I intend to use this as a place for me to work through things as they come up as well as revisit pieces of my past. I think this will resonate with some people just because a higher percentage of the American population suffer from binge eating disorder than from anorexia and bulimia combined. I hope that my words can encourage people to be more honest with themselves if it is something with which they also struggle.
