I have a confession to make. The Niamh you have become acquainted with through the posts on this blog is not altogether real. I have constructed a character. There is nothing wrong with that; surely all of the personas we carry off on social media platforms are simply one facet of our true selves, but for the purposes of this post, I feel it is necessary for me to strip back the facade and (perhaps for the first time) unveil my personality in all its naked honesty.
I wish.
It is important for me to do this in order to tackle some misunderstandings about anorexia nervosa and eating disorders in general. For the common outsider, it seems to be the case that their understanding of anorexia nervosa is that this illness is simply a case of self-starvation. Thus, the recovery process is easy: eat some food, gain some weight, hey presto! All better. And that is perfectly understandable; the taboo surrounding such a difficult and complex disorder has led to a lack of education, so much so that even my own mother would admit to this being the extent of her knowledge before her own daughter was diagnosed.
This is not the case. While it is evident that, in general, my physical health is certainly on the mend as a result of my food consumption increasing significantly, I am in no way better. I am not so shallow as to fail to recognise the good nature of mankind when casual acquaintances, friends and family members comment on “how well I look” (despite the fact that this may translate in my head to, “Wow, look how much weight you’ve gained!”); I appreciate efforts to congratulate me on tackling my greatest fear for the sake of my health. But I do think that the use of the word “well” in this instance is anachronistic.
Here is the ugly truth: I am not “well”. I would argue that, despite approaching a healthy BMI, at this time I am the sickest I have ever been. I would argue that I am currently at greater risk of physical harm than I would ever have been at my lowest weight and all of the medical complications that came along with being at such a low weight. And this is because I am currently a danger to myself.
I know this isn’t a pleasant thing to read but I cannot ignore how necessary this is in order to stimulate some discussion and to educate, even if it is an address to a small readership. I hate myself. This is not news to me; after all, an individual must experience true self-loathing in order to feel that they do not deserve to eat. But before, starvation was the perfect distraction from such a harsh reality. If I could succeed at starvation, I had a raison d’être. This has been taken away from me. And that is terrifying.
I have lived with disordered eating for eight years of my life. Those were my eight years of adolescence, the time in a person’s life when they truly come into their own and begin to understand who they are as an individual and learn what their position is in society. Unfortunately, I have no idea who this person is. When your main focus in life is to eat so little as to be a waif in the wind and to be the greatest dieter that the world has ever seen, it is almost impossible to be yourself. You are not you. You are Anorexia. And, at the time, that is all that matters and you are perfectly okay with that.
I am proud to say that I am now trying to leave Anorexia in the past in order to be Niamh, but this is honestly the hardest part of the journey so far. It is difficult having to face your greatest fear every few hours in the form of eating. It is difficult waking up every morning knowing that you have to spend the next few hours or so walking around the planet wearing a body that you are not comfortable in. It is difficult knowing that you wasted years of your life creating something only to have it taken away from you. It is difficult knowing that you are causing your loved ones pain because sadness is an inherent part of your life now and you can’t explain why. It is difficult hating yourself.
I don’t know whether depression is a cause or a symptom of my anorexia nervosa (and yes, it is “my” anorexia nervosa; I feel I have every right to “own” my illness now) but what I do know is that it is certainly present throughout and after the event. So the next time you use the term “depressed” in reference to a fleeting feeling of sadness or frustration, take a moment to think about what the word “depression” really refers to. Self-loathing. Worthlessness. Hopelessness. These emotions are constantly present in the mind of someone suffering from depression. So please, think before you speak.
Finally, before you assume I or any other ED warrior is recovered because I now eat sandwiches for lunch or my palette has developed beyond one serving of spinach for dinner or I don’t perform jumping jacks until I collapse into a sweat-drenched faint, think again. There is more going on in this head of mine than you will ever know.
-Niamhy xx
High Priestess Resurrected 