When you get sick of an eating disorder you don’t understand being sick at all.
You need months, years, sometimes a whole life.
Denying to yourself that you really fell in that damned black hole done of Kcal, numbers, calculation, denial and fears.
A game, everything started like a game without even wanting it.
Like everyone else in the world I knew to not be perfect, I knew what my defects were, accepted and learnt to live with them.
I loved food, every occasion was the good one to eat, I loved to cook, and I was the kind of person who preferred a cake instead of flowers as a gift.
Only later, stepping back, you’ll understand that behind such illness, the problem is not the food itself. Stress, fears, small health issues, events, fights, sentences, empathy, images, people, moments, all things you passed through that brought you indirectly and slowly into that.
I felt guilty for things that I was not responsible for, and at a certain point, instead of enjoying life, instead of reacting and fighting...I imploded.
The food part triggers with nothing, I started by being “careful” on what I was eating by decreasing the amount of cheese bread spread I was used to eating just before lunch...
...and slowly I end up trying to measure how many calories a single cherry tomato represents, that weighs, what...5gr??
Then, when I was feeling hungry, I started trying to resist 5, 10, 30 min more without eating...till a full day was passing, and when night was coming I was feeling relief.
I was doing exceptions, an ice cream, something I cannot live without, trying to convince myself that I was loving me, taking care of myself by introducing a not defined quantity of calories...I was eating an ice cream, not a fruit, not a salad.
I started to do sport, so that I could even burn calories to feel relief in case of eating “something not planned”...but what I was burning in reality?
After having burned the few amounts of energy left, my body started to eat my muscle, my bones because the fat was long gone.
But I didn’t know that...and I continued to walk and jump because this illness is giving you the strength to continue.
The worst part of this illness is not the corrupted estetic, of which I was aware of and I totally dislike myself…
it’s the fact that this illness is eating you from the inside, it gives you the illusion to be full of energy but in reality you’re empty inside and outside.
Psychologically it takes the control of your soul and it changes you.
It fills your life with bewilderment, stress, anxiety, panic, miscomprehension, loneliness, lack of control, failures and negativity.
and if you let her take over you, you fell even deeper, you see everything black: the university (you brain needs nutrients to work but you don’t want to accept it), some ties melts, not being able to run away from all of this, not being able to see your brother for 1 year, health issues coming out of the blue, losing the job due to the pandemic etc
I wanted to look like the best person in the world at the eyes of the others, when in reality I was showing the worst part of me.
I was running away from a lot of opportunities, depriving myself of a lot of happy moments.
People alway told me that I was bringing sun in their life...now I was stealing it from them.
Being so sick, reaching 36 kg, let you understand who really loves you.
A boyfriend, a family and friends.
But you’re the one who has to bang the head, to accept it as first, overpassing the biggest obstacle of falling in the classic definition of being “sick”, without feeling “sick” at all.
But in these moments you understand he really loves you, who’ll be there, who knows you for real.
Who understands you timing, who holds your hand and act for you. Who, without too many words pick up the hidden help signal, who unexpectedly moves heaven and earth for you.
Who stays with you cuddling your hand when you’re in panic thinking of going out.
Who listened without asking, who let you cry and shout, who let you feel understood at thousand of Km far, who took out the best and worst of you, and who just respected your silence.
And on the other side you’ve the people you want to eliminate from your life, who’s in there because it’s convenient, or just to say “you’ve lost too much weight, eat”.
The first big step is to reach a little bit of self awareness, the second I think is to talk about it and ask for help. Then to start a journey for yourself.
Slowly you’ll win back a little of yourself.
Talking, crying, shouting, explaining, and discussing with someone will help everyday to win back a small part of you.
Because food is not the real problem, but you’ll win it back as well, a dinner, a party, the happiness, not only the Kg of which you ran dry.
‘cause at a certain point you cannot stand it anymore, and it’s enough to meet someone, to scratch the bottom, the right word, a sight of comprehension, a taste you’re missing.
I don’t know what was the turning point in my brain, maybeI was just seeking to be happy again...I don’t know...but I know that it’s wonderful.
The balance is not immediately achieved, I would probably need months, maybe years.
Looks like being on a rollercoaster.
A continuous up and down, of being fine, feel guilty, proud of yourself or crying of fear because ‘I don’t want to gain weight but it’s mandatory for my health”,
How many times I was dining out, pretending that everything was fine but I was actually dying inside,
How many I time I overate and then equally I fasted...
How many times, watching yourself, I thought or they had told me to have done giant strides
but I felt like I had walked less than an ant.
But for sure this rollercoaster sooner or later will be over, and it will lead to a wonderful landscape of a rainbow of emotions, feelings of the new life that’s waiting for you.
One day you'll watch yourself in the mirror and you’ll learn to accept yourself again
to love the person full of wound inside and outside that you’re,
and everything will be different
and at that moment you’ll be you again.
My name is Caterina, I’m 24, 25 in may, during Coronavirus pandemic I started to lose weight, first slowly then dramatically fast reaching 36 kg.
I was barely eating, I couldn't do it anymore.
I reached 36Kg when I was already followed, but I was convinced to be fine.
I lived hell for months.
Now, since December I took 6 Kg, it’s a wonderful achievement, I’m just half way, but you can’t understand how much I already refound myself.
I’m full of fears, but wtf how much I ruined my life with my own 2 hands.
What I wrote above gives me goosebumps, It’s not easy for me to open up like that. I just hope that this story could open the eyes of a lot of girls and families.
This illness is not only about reaching feather-weight, is much more deeper than that.