Lately, the girl in this picture has been howling, moaning, wailing from the pit of her soul... mourning for her death... calling her spirit back from the land of the forgotten. The girl is me.
This snapshot was taken at the crossroads. A place in time when my life was hanging in the balance... teetering on the edge. If I had felt the presence of love and support, I may have been able to guide myself toward the light of freedom. Unfortunately, I was left alone to fight a battle it takes an army to wage. I quickly lost grasp of my lifeline, surrendering to anorexia.
I write this piece from my heart. I write this piece for the nameless souls who have been abandoned. I stand and fight the good fight for those who have been stripped of their voices. I write this piece for my true loves... every brave soul taking the courageous stand to free themselves from the clutches of eating disorder. I write to give your pain expression for it is a pain that has been my travelling companion for most of my life. I write because I will not be silenced or shamed. It is time for my voice... for all of our voices... to be heard.
At a time in my life when I desperately needed compassion and understanding I was discarded like so much trash. There are no words to express the wounding that was inflicted upon me. The words escape my lips just as the help I so direly needed escaped me in my darkest hour. It is my hope that by sharing my story I can encourage others to hold the light for those still walking through the shadow.
When this photo was taken I was serving time in my own private hell. The pain I felt was unbearable. It took the sheer force of brute will to make it one day to the next. I was alive, but something inside of me was already fading away into the blackness. I knew of no other way to survive than to sever myself from all feeling. Enter Ana...
Anorexia is not about being thin or fitting in with the 'it' crowd. Anorexia... any eating disorder really... is about cutting yourself off at the neck. It is about disconnecting from your body where your emotions are held so there is a sense of control over feelings that seem so threatening. It is a way to survive the pain that acts as a double edged sword, helping the individual to cope ineffectively as it also seals one's fate.
When someone is struggling with eating disorder there is a profound sense of shame leading to isolation that crowds out all sources of connection and support. How loved ones show up for the eating disorder sufferer can make the difference between life and death. This is why I share my tale. So that others may learn from the harm that was cast upon me.
This is my experience. I have let the ghosts of the past haunt the corridors of my soul for too long. I am ready to free this apparition so it may find peace in the Great Beyond. It is time for me to have my life... myself... back.
I have struggled with anorexia since the age of 11. The major events of my life have been marked with relapse. Usually relapse was brought on when life careened out of control due to mounting heartache and pressure, leaving me overwhelmed. Since I have always been the person to show up for others, I had adopted the facade of being the 'strong' one. The person who could take it... keep shoveling it in.
In fact, this is a very common attitude for eating disorder sufferers. They don't believe they can trust anyone. They don't feel loved. They don't feel emotionally held. As a result, they adopt the steely stance that they don't need anyone. They can handle whatever is thrown at them on their own. We all need someone.
As the individual becomes more and more isolated, shame begins to breed and spawn. Soon the only one the sufferer can trust is ED. This won't make sense to an outsider. How could it? Friends and family feel washed in confusion. How could the one they care so deeply for see self-abuse as a viable option? It is because of the sense of containment the eating disorder provides for the struggling individual. Suddenly, with ED in charge, emotions don't feel so threatening. The world doesn't appear so looming and large. There is the seduction of self-mastery. A cynicism takes hold convincing the eating disorder sufferer that everyone else is oblivious... they don't have a clue... only ED gets it.
Sadly, most do not know how to show up for the person ensnared in eating disorder. The condition travels further down the spiral while loved ones sink into dismay. To help prevent another from being left alone the way I was I am going to share a cautionary tale for all those who love someone who is fighting this battle. This tale illustrates what not to do.
I was 23 at the time and worked as a manager in a record store. For all intents and purposes, it should have been a carefree time in my life. It was anything but. My boss was extremely abusive. He sexually harassed me and when his attempts to woo me left him empty-handed, he would call me into the back office to degrade me... hurling every obscenity at me in the book. He humiliated me by following me out on my breaks and tearing me apart in front of the other employees and shoppers at the mall. I had made every attempt to get corporate heads to address this matter, all to no avail. My finances were extremely tight and I was struggling to make ends meet. I couldn't just up and quit my job. I was seeking other employment, but nothing was coming through.
I was also dealing with personal issues. I was nursing a broken heart and dealing with volatile situations that were pushing every last one of my buttons. The ground was moving beneath my feet. There was not one area of my life that was not impacted at this time. My whole world was caving in around me. Everything I believed in... everything I held dear... everything that carried meaning for me... was being systematically stripped of me. The pain became too much for me to bear. I fell back into a relapse of anorexia because it was the only way I knew to create a sense of safety for myself.
As the weight began to slide off my body, I received lots of attention and praise. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing it. This was like giving me a treat for doing a trick. I had always been so desperate for approval. To receive this admiration only stoked the fire of the eating disorder. I became more deeply entrenched. What started out as starving, existing off little more than coffee and cigarettes, soon became a deadly cocktail of wasting, purging, exercising for hours on end, diuretics, and laxatives. It was the worst case scenario in recovery terms. I'm a statistical oddity... a miracle. By all accounts I should be six feet under.
The more weight that dropped, the more gushing approval came in. I became addicted to the feeling of being accepted, even though it was a false acceptance. I was not being valued for who I truly am. I was being exalted for fitting into society's norms... for emulating the images on fashion runways and Hollywood red carpets. I was being celebrated for a facade. The real me slipped further out of view... bound and silenced.
As my situation became more desperate the divide widened. Soon, gone were the accolades, replaced by mean-spirited jeers, teasing, and taunting. My co-workers nicknamed me Karen Carpenter and were having a good laugh at my expense. They chuckled that someone must have put a gypsy curse on me as in Stephen King's "Thinner". I was labeled as weird... a freak. It's all fun and games until you are at the roulette table gambling away your life. Even though I was wearing my pain like a suit of armor for all to see, no one extended a hand to help. Instead my suffering was met with mockery. My shame escalated driving me deeper down into the abyss. I felt threatened... unsafe... and my devotion to Ana grew.
Ana was always there for me. 'She' didn't tease or chide. 'She' let me feel in control as my whole world was sliding off the map. That was a hell of a lot more than I could say for most people around me at that time. I did have a couple people who clumsily reached out to me. At least they showed they cared. Although it may not have seemed to make a difference at the time, it was those few souls who helped me survive the unsurvivable. May the blessing of their kindness return to them a thousand fold. If you get anything out of what I am sharing it is this...
Reach out and connect with the eating disorder sufferer in whatever way you can. Do not worry about falling short. Worry instead about doing nothing or worse yet, inflicting cruelty. The only way you will fail your loved one is if you keep them in isolation. As long as you use compassion as your guide, you are making a difference, even when this is not readily apparent.
I hit bottom at 85 lbs. I had been vomiting large amounts of blood daily. My organs were sliding into failure. My cognitive functioning escaped me. In this state of desperation a small still place inside of me reached out for help. It was a last ditch effort. My call for help was met with ridicule and rejection.
I remember feeling as if I was slipping away after I hung up the phone. I buried myself under my blankets, curled up into a little ball. Time was suspended as I lay still... barely breathing. Hours must have passed before I made my way to the bathroom.
In that moment, the veil was lifted. I tore off my clothes and stood in front of the mirror naked, taking in my true reflection... an image that had eluded me for months despite the concerned comments of a select few. In that instant, I saw the ravages of anorexia on my body. It appeared the Grim Reaper had already arrived to claim my soul. Skin and bones... nothing more. A casing of a woman who once was... a little girl gone lost. The harshness of the image awakened me. I sunk to my knees on the cold linoleum and there I rested in the fetal position for three days solid, mourning the death of the girl I once knew. A part of me died that day. A part I have only reclaimed in recent months.
I should have been hospitalized, put on a heart monitor and feeding tubes. Someone, anyone, should have given a shit. That was not my experience. Three days was all I had to pull myself together. I went back to working my 12 hour shifts while I sucked up the merciless humiliation heaped upon me while others laughed gleefully at my demise. My pain was a joke. My life was a joke. I was the punchline of a cruel joke only I wasn't laughing.
There is no way to capture the level of disconnect this created within me. I froze up inside. The only way I could survive was to lock away the old me... steeling her away to a secret passageway in my soul.
I recently retrieved the key to my prison and set myself free. I have been processing the rage, shame, and deep grief that I have numbed myself from experiencing for 14 years. I have allowed myself to sing my soul song... to belt it out with a warrior's cry on the path of redemption. I have called my soul parts back across the valley of the exiled. I have mended what was once severed, making me whole. I am in ownership of myself... my power returned. I will never be that broken girl again. Nothing can touch me after walking through that fire. No one can harm me because I will never abandon myself again.
During the period of my last stand with anorexia, I wrote a poem expressing the pain of being discarded and taunted during my time of great need...
~Jaded~
By, Shannon Elsom
You smiled...
And I felt the knife turn within my breast
The pain was not present for myself...
Nor for all my afflictions endured
But for you...
The lonely one
Smiling like a Cheshire cat
Oh, the soft lies we sell...
To make the simple so complex
Did you not know that plastered grin had cracked your mask?
Seeping through the facade...
A trail of tears that spread like the horizon
Making your smile appear more the frown
In my eyes
If you or someone you love is struggling with eating disorder, please, reach out for help. Call in professional support. You can find assistance by contacting NEDA (The National Eating Disorders Association)...
http://www.edap.org/
This is a situation that calls for outside help. For the sake of the one you love, please don't attempt to carry this on your own.
Recovery happens and it is worth every step taken on the path... through all the tears, the rage, the grief. I stand present, a woman who has crossed the divide. I must say, the grass is greener on the other side. Don't give up. Life is worth it. Beauty is everywhere and that beauty is within you. Home is where the heart is and it resides in your soul. I will hold a light through my living example that everyone who struggles with eating disorder will find their way back home.
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." ~Plato
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