"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me..." Some variation of that saying has probably been used by most children throughout the world at one time or another. The sad reality is that words can cause emotional wounds that may never heal. A very dear friend has asked me to share my story and, although this is a very personal and embarrassing part of my past, I am more than willing to share if it will help even one person to feel a little less alone or perhaps help someone realize how hurtful their casual comments may be to others. When I was 13 years old, two friends and I were walking in front of a group of teenage boys. One of them loudly announced, "The one in the middle is cute but she's kinda fat." That boy would never know how much his comment affected me and, even though I was probably only about ten pounds overweight at the time, it started a pattern of destructive behaviour with very negative results. For the next few years, I would diet and exercise compulsively, trying to attain an unrealistic 110-pound weight. I believed that everything bad that happened in my life was caused by me being overweight. By the time I was 16, I had started to binge and purge. I would stop by the store almost every day after school to buy chocolate bars, potato chips, cakes and whatever else I had been denying myself. I would then lock myself in the bathroom and eat it all at once. While I was eating, I was in a sort of frenzy where all I thought about was the taste of the food and how good it felt to eat whatever I wanted. Immediately after I finished, the reality of what I had done would hit me. I had to dispose of the wrappers so that nobody would know what I had done and then guilt would set in. I tried to stop the destructive behaviour by staring at my reflection in the mirror and asking myself if I wanted to be a disgusting fat pig. Then, to avoid gaining any weight, I would "get rid of" the food that I had eaten. I had developed an effective method of making myself vomit quickly and quietly. This behaviour continued for several months, with intermittent periods of fasting for up to seven days, in an attempt to control my weight. "Bulimia nervosa is a disorder marked by repeated episodes of overeating followed by compensatory vomiting, laxative use, fasting, or excessive exercise" (Meyers, 2004). Some researchers believe that "addictive disorders, such as alcoholism, drug abuse, and binge eating, may stem from a reward deficiency syndrome - a genetically disposed deficiency in the natural brain systems for pleasure and well-being that leads people to crave whatever provides that missing pleasure or relieves negative feelings" (Meyers, 2004). Heredity probably contributed to my predisposition for obesity since three out of four of my grandparents were obese, as is my father and both my parents always seemed to be on one fad diet or another. One day, out of the blue, my mother offered me some of her diet pills, which led me to believe that I must really be overweight. I had planned to become a police officer after graduating from high school but was unsuccessful in my first attempt. I blamed my first failure on my weight and six months later, after excessive exercising and losing another ten pounds, I applied with a different force. Again, I was unsuccessful. The disappointment and rejection I felt at that time in my life caused me to eat even more. By age 19, my weight problem had become much more serious. After the death of my mother, I became extremely depressed and did nothing but eat and cry. I had gained 50 pounds in just over six months and my dream of becoming a police officer was over. Over the next twenty years, I can't tell you how many different diets I tried. I would lose 10 pounds then gain 20, lose 20 pounds and gain 30. I was on an emotional roller coaster where my whole life and my perception of happiness revolved around my weight. I ate when I was hungry but I also ate when I was angry, unhappy or anxious. My list of excuses to eat was endless and I do accept responsibility for my weight problems but the pressure society puts on people to conform to an unrealistic standard probably contributed to my difficulty. On one occasion, a woman in a restaurant loudly commented that I had made a third trip to the buffet. She must not have noticed that I was eating only salad. Many of my issues around food may have started long before the boy's comment about my weight. For some reason, the worst family arguments always occurred at the dinner table. There were not many family meals during my childhood but when there were, dishes had a tendency to get broken. My mother frequently withheld food as punishment or because she was saving it for company so when I was old enough to buy whatever I wanted, it was almost always food. Understanding that there were many factors which contributed to my self-destructive behaviour may not change anything but acknowledging that my reaction to external influences was normal may help me to forgive myself and hopefully put an end to my negative self-image that usually leads to more eating. Today, I am at a healthy weight but it took the scare of a TIA (Transient ischemic attack also known as a warning stroke) at work earlier this year to make me realize it was no longer simply about my appearance. When I was lying in hospital waiting for a CT scan, I promised myself that if I got through this I would change my lifestyle. I have lost 80 pounds since April by eating healthy REAL food, no fad diets, and I feel amazing. I realize how lucky I was that it was not a real stroke or even worse and I plan to appreciate my health from now on and put the same effort into maintaining it as I had previously put into beating myself up about not being perfect. Thank you for the opportunity to share my story and I wish you every success in your own journey to self-acceptance.
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