Surfacing After Silence

Life. After.

To The Bone fits my reality almost perfectly.

“I had an eating disorder, and To The Bone Got it Almost Entirely Wrong”

Author, Lucy Kelly: “The new Netflix movie is a remarkably tone-deaf and insight-free depiction of anorexia nervosa.” 

I thought To The Bone finally depicted someone struggling with the terrifying choice of anorexia versus recovery.  To The Bone is reassurance that other people have lived my story and other people had the same fears as I did and that other people took years to make the choice to recover.

Yes, this post will discuss anorexia symptoms–my experience with various symptoms and treatment.  At no point will I make the claim that my experience is everyone’s experience–or even that it should represent the majority of people with an eating disorder.

As advocates for mental health awareness in general and eating disorder awareness specifically, we bemoan the fact that not enough media accurately portrays eating disorders, that anorexia is glamourized or romanticized and that society doesn’t understand that anorexia has a mortality rate of 20%.

Then there comes a movie–that is fiction (and she makes a point to call this a fiction, not a documentary/memoir) , but based on the writer’s personal experience–and now people are pissed that it isn’t accurate enough, and that it’s not representative of all people who struggle with an eating disorder.

We ask for reality and then bitch when we’re given that reality.  Does anyone else see the inherent conflict of this statement?

No one story will ever be representative of the majority.  And if we want to keep saying that each individual’s story is unique, we can’t expect one story to work for everyone.  Articles and blogs such as the one I have linked to are now complaining that her story didn’t represent their story.

But–it was nice to finally see this story represented in media.  This story is strikingly similar to my story. If we want people to understand the harsh realities of  eating disorders, tell them to watch this film, because I’m having problems seeing this as ‘romanticized.’ It certainly doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

The seven patients are male, female, black, white, straight, gay, bi, and have anorexia, binge eating disorder, bulimia, and exercise addiction.  This isn’t supposed to represent typical treatment centers, but in one inpatient treatment center, there were only three of us in the eating disorder treatment.   The idea is that it isn’t traditional at all.  The main character faints while waiting for a bus. She’s forever huddled in several layers of clothing in an effort to stay warm and hide herself from sight.  She forces herself to do sit-ups in bed because she is terrified of life without sit-ups. Another patient keeps a smelly paper bag under her bed to throw up in when no one is watching.  A pregnant patient loses her baby due to complications from the eating disorder.  The token male dancer had to stop dancing due to injuries–that are a result of the eating disorder, and he finds during the movie that he will never be professional dancer again because his knee is shot.  One patient is forced to have an NG-tube and struggles to accept how many calories being pumped into her.  Which of these stories present an eating disorder as a beautiful way to live?

ached to tear the NG-tube out.  The only reason I didn’t?  My doctor said he would just put another one back in, and that this time I’d be on a one-to-one on a medical unit on bed rest, and I figured (in my obsessed brain) that at least I could burn off a few calories by walking from the dining room to the living room, where we had to sit. All. Day. Long.  I kept a chart tracking exactly how many sit-ups, push-ups, toe raises, squats, etc. I did every single day.  I would not go to bed until I finished all of those exercises–in addition to whatever running and walking and biking and swimming I had done earlier in the day.  I timed how long I stretched my hamstrings–and kept a chart of all of my stretches too.

We say that media only contributes to the stereotype that only very thin people need treatment.  This film only has 7 patients, true–but some are emaciated, some are thin, some may be overweight (from a health perspective).  Some are athletic.  Some aren’t.  Yet all of them are getting help.

This film does not cater to people wanting numbers of any type.  We only have a few shots of Ellen, the main character, in anything but layers of clothing.  We don’t see her weight.  We don’t hear her weight–either her current weight or how much she’s lost.  We don’t see sizes.  There is one calorie reference.  We don’t even know how many sit-ups Ellen does every day.

As for how the film represents families trying to deal with or understand their loved one’s struggles with an eating disorder?   The sister voices her anger at not having a real sister, only an illness standing in for a sister.  The parents and step-parents struggle to understand and support their daughter and really have no clue how to do so and, even if they did, they’re exhausted and wish they could just forget about it.  If you want to say that parents do everything they can possibly think of to seek help or to read up on a diagnosis and possible treatments or providers–be thankful you can have that viewpoint.  I don’t.

This film doesn’t wrap things up in a nice, neat plotline.  We don’t dive into all the myriad ways someone might develop an eating disorder.  And the patients don’t simply get to the treatment center, get help, and get better.  In fact, the ending simply shows her deciding to really give treatment a chance–without the happily-ever-after conclusion Hollywood loves.  Ellen has had treatment–and then relapsed.  Over and over again.  Which is kind of what my story was.  Hospitalizations that I was not invested in aside from keeping my doctors from committing me.  Discharge, relapse, readmission.  I can’t be the only one with this plotline.

Ellen is terrified.  Of recovery.  This is what we don’t want to speak of.  We want to think that people get sick and want to get better.  But what if you’ve been sick for so long you’ve forgotten what not being sick is like?  What if you’ve been told by multiple treatment providers that “once an anorexic, always an anorexic”?  Life without an eating disorder is the unknown territory that could be beautiful and fulfilling, but it could also be horrific and painful and terrifying.  Terrifying enough to paralyze you.

The repeated hospitalizations did one thing–they kept me physically alive until I hit my particular rock bottom and made the decision to recover and to actually participate in my own treatment.  At the time, I probably would have said I wanted nothing to do with whatever life was.  Now?  I’m glad people forced my physical body to maintain enough health that I survived.  Now?  I’m glad I hit rock bottom and scraped my way back up to somewhat level ground.

This movie will trigger a great many people.  Some people will watch this movie for that very reason.  They want to get tips and tricks to be sicker.  This film won’t give out a lot of tricks.  I’m positive that a lot of people have already printed out pictures from this film and pasted them on walls and in journals as “thinspiration.”  However, I don’t think any representation about eating disorders could not be triggering.  The people who will stare at these images will find inspiration in any movie, any television show, any magazine, any fashion runway, any fitness program, any gym.  They will see someone who is frail from chemo treatments as desirable.  They will see pre-pubescent children as ideal.  They will look at Olympic weight lifters and think that body type can be had by every citizen in the world.

What are some other things you will see watching this film?  How difficult it is to navigate relationships when you or the person you care for are ill.  Family, friends, romantic interests–all are affected by an eating disorder.  How recovery is not a simple process of finding a treatment center and forever moving forward.  How no one can make you recover unless you want to recover.

This film may not be representative of your reality.  But the article I linked to above doesn’t represent my reality.  There is no one reality, no one story.  Perhaps that is what people need to see.  Sometimes, stepping outside of your comfort zone and exposing yourself to alternate realities really is the best course of action.

 

 

 

 

 

July 21, 2017 Posted by | addictions, bipolar disorder, Body Image, Communication, coping, depression, diversity, Eating Disorders, exercise, family, health, identity, images, inclusiveness, movies, publicity, recovery, relationships, thinspo, To the Bone, treatment, triggers, weight | Leave a comment

Unfamiliar Body

My prior knowledge of menopause: You stop menstruating.  At some point when you’re older (like around 60?).

What I have now come to understand about menopause: Menopause is not this event that will happen one day; it’s a process.  You will–eventually–stop menstruating, but during the nebulous grey zone called perimenopause, you may wonder if some version of The Body Snatchers has taken place, because the body you wake up in is not the body you felt asleep in. And this glorious stretch of time is just that–a long, seemingly endless stretch of time.

My doctors in Baltimore had warned me that I may experience menopause earlier than expected–because of the eating disorder and because of the level/duration of prior athletic training.  So I assumed I’d just stop getting my period a little early and, well, who wouldn’t want that?

When I started having night sweats a year ago, all my bloodwork came back normal, and we attributed the then-random night sweats to stress or due to medications.  Now the night sweats are always worse the week before my period.  And I’m lucky enough to get hot flashes during the day, too.  And the length of my cycle has changed and it’s a bit heavier than ever before.

However, I have also acquired a whole new, unexpected body.  Okay, technically, I inhabit the same skin I always have, but the outline of my skin has changed.

he first time I went to wear shorts this year, they didn’t fit.  I was a bit confused, and wondered if I had put the shorts in the drier one too many times.  But when I got dressed for my next track meet, I noticed I no longer had to wear a belt.  Jeans and shirts that were once nice and relaxed could now be sold with the label “slim fit.”  While I have always worn maybe an almost-B-cup, my breasts now prefer a definitely-C-cup.

I am still letting everything sink in, and adjusting to these current changes that no one seems to want to talk about.  But it has been nice knowing that these changes have no other significance.  When I was struggling with anorexia, my size and weight were inseparable from my worth.  I feared my body’s curves and strove to make them disappear. I had to learn to disassociate my shape from any type of  judgment.  I had to say, “This is my size” as a simple statement.

Now I am once again relearning my body, and although I  no longer fear my body, I have returned to a practice that was an important part of my recovery, and that is to pay special attention to the final pose of my yoga sessions: savasana, or corpse pose.  A seemingly simple pose of rest, but one that used to be terrifying.  Lying there, open to the world, I was exposed and vulnerable.  This was intimidating on my best days, for I had never allowed myself to know my body, to be fully present in my own skin.

Again, I take extra time in corpse pose to truly rest and relax. I give myself time to trace the shape of my body on the yoga mat.  My goal is to feel each body part without opening my eyes.  I try to sense where my body is touching the mat.  I am relearning the curves of body.  Without letting my mind run away.  And without letting my physical body stand up and run away.

While there is no longer fear, there is an unfamiliarity that is unsettling.  But for once, I am thankful for the prior struggles with eating disorders.  Or, rather, prior exercises I did in recovery that allow me to claim this body as mine.

 

July 11, 2017 Posted by | bipolar disorder, Body Image, Communication, depression, diversity, Eating Disorders, exercise, feelings, health, heart, identity, mindfulness, progress, recovery, therapy, weight, yoga | Leave a comment