Addictionland - Addiction Recovery Blog

I like that Valentine's Day is in the same month as Eating Disorder Awareness. Love is the remedy for any addiction. I suffered from bulimia for over a decade and understand the shame, pain and hopelessness that are hallmarks of an eating disorder.

When I began binging and purging in my mid teens, I had no idea my behavior was just a symptom of my attempt to gain control over my life.  The daughter of loving and intelligent parents, yet an overbearing and opinionated mother and a judgemental and distant father, bulimia offered a chance to do exactly as I pleased without the consequence of judgement or withdrawl of love.

In fact, my nice shape got me the attention of my father who applauded my ability to control my physique and allowed me to do as pleased after having to comply with my mother's expectations of me.  It worked for a long time until I started to notice how my eating disorder became the center of my life and all my interests, dreams and hobbies fell to the wayside.

It's hard to plan for a binge, shop for the food, eat the food in secret, purge in secret, make up stories to your roommates or parents, lie about your weight loss, feel comfortable in your body with a sore throat and stomach, feel good about yourself when you believe  you are a fraud, etc.

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I just came back from 11 days at the beach. I love the sun and yes I know that it is bad for me. Just let me stay in denial about that. The sun makes me feel good. However, I struggled with the bathing suit issue. As many women know, the bathing suit issue hits hard these days. How I look is becoming a bit more conflictual as I age. I see where the sun has taken its toll. The thighs are a lot less firm and tone than they were 10 years ago. The skin is looking a bit weathered from years of baby oil and no SPF 30 as a kid.
One thing that I cannot pretend that doesn’t exist is that my body is changing. I am 50 years old. What else would it do? I call my body “it” because for many years I treated it like it was something separate from myself. “It” was the enemy for many years. And I treated it as so.
I have started my love hate relationship with food and with my body when I was just about 13. There were very long periods of time when I was thirsty for perfection, thinness, control, and safety. There were very long periods of time when excessive food restriction and obsessive exercise invaded the ability to enjoy such times at the beach.
There were seasons in my life when I did look fit and tone in a bikini. I still try to feel okay in a two piece. For me the death of my youth will come when I resort to a one piece. I am telling the truth. I am just not ready to go there yet. Will I continue to treat my body a.k.a. “it” as the enemy as I age and as I see the changes that are happening? Will I learn to embrace this gift or will I have the leftover mentality that is associated with a history of eating disorders and extreme body mistreatment. I am in the dismantling process.
I will tell you the truth, some days are better than others. And it was so these past 11 days. There were moments when I was alive and thankful and really had a carefree feeling about myself. After all I am doing what I love in my career and have big goals for myself. I am loving being a mom and taking care of my family. I am so looking forward to burning fall candles and feeling the chill in the air while my house is filled with the scent of Crisp Apples or Fall Leaves. I have days where I feel thankful and responsible when I lovingly care for my skin, take my vitamins, exercise for 60 minutes and then move on without horrific guilt and fear that I did not pound myself enough.
There were moments this past week where I was like “hey not so bad for a fifty year old” as I walked on the beach or rode my bike on trails in the woods. There were moments this week when I was feeling free after a couple of s’mores. So what! Big deal! They tasted awesome. I was able to move on to the next thing without fear and wretched remorse because I over ate or ate something on the bad list of foods.
I have left overs. Leftover burning embers from a world where I lived secretly for so long in active addiction with Anorexia and Bulimia. Some days the left over miswired thoughts invade my thinking and feelings. In recovery we call that “stinkin thinkin” and yep – I have those thoughts. I really do not want to fight with “it” but somehow I find myself fighting her. I am in my head battling the good and bad food lists and feel the fear rise; shutting off the gratitude I have for just being me and caring for her – my body.
I am now in the dismantling process. I resolve not to go to war with myself because I ate, lounged in the sun, read a book, ate more than I cared to do, walked as far as I wanted and when my body said “that’s enough” I stopped. You see these are all healthy thoughts in my story of recovery. Yet, the left overs tell me just the opposite. The left overs pulverize and stampede the work I have done and the progress I have made. The zest for growing, living, and loving that I now able to do is sabotaged from the leftovers of a life that I once was prisoner to.
The left overs tell me how dare I wear a bikini. They tell me my body is beat, I jiggle way too much, and I look like an old used up raisin. I will not surrender to those leftovers. I vow not to be a prisoner again. I will not accept the invitation to go there.
And I say “I am Fifty and I am nifty” and there is nothing that will hold me back from living life now. Bikini or not….I am free today. I am blowing out the embers that get ignited from time to time. Today I can do that. My body is not the enemy anymore. My body is me – 100% spiritual, emotional, physical all integrated into one great gift from God. Eleven great days at the beach in a two piece – sober, free, and loving me. I did it and did it with ease.

I always thought that eating disorders and preoccupation with food began at at early age – like me when I was in my early teens. Through research that I am doing on aging and recovery from eating disorders, I am finding more and more articles on women who are caught up in the social demands that say thinness is where it is at and aging is where it isn’t. They turn 40 and start the spirit killer of food addiction.

Do women see themselves as somehow a burden? In some twisted way has food, body image, and weight became mixed up in the equation?

Treatment options may be limited for these women. How has this happened where women who are in their prime time of their life, suddenly find themselves upset and preoccupied with what they view as a defect with their bodies? Sad and senseless or makes perfect sense?

 

What happens for older women that suddenly find themselves starving all day and binging all night?

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I was quite simple for me.

Out of my desperation and hibernation into the pits of shame and self hatred, I started to tell the truth on how severe the binging and purging had gotten for me.

Thousands of dollars of in patient and out patient treatment just touched the surface of the despair in my heart. The confusion of who this person was beneath the big, baggy, black clothes was like a hurricane brewing in the ocean. Feared only by me.

Baggy clothes were like a wall of protection. You couldn't see me and I couldnt feel myself. The pain of it all was that I so desperately wanted to be seen. Pure confusion.

The secrecy behind locked doors kept the outside from looking in. No one could tell what I was doing with food. Binging, purging, binging purging. Some days it was all day. I hated myself for what I was doing and hated myself because I was so scared.

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Alida Schuyler MS, PCC, is a leading expert, trainer, speaker and consultant for Recovery Coaching worldwide. She is co-founder of Recovery Coaches International and Director of Crossroads Recovery Coaching Inc.

Thom Rutledge is the author of "Embracing Fear: How to Turn What Scare Us into Our Greatest Gift."

Addiction is a primary, chronic disease of brain reward, motivation, memory and related circuitry. Dysfunction in these circuits leads to characteristic biological, psychological, social and spiritual manifestations. This is reflected in the individual pursuing reward and/or relief by substance use and other behaviors. The addiction is characterized by impairment in behavioral control, craving, inability to consistently abstain, and diminished recognition of significant problems with one’s behaviors and interpersonal relationships. Like other chronic diseases, addiction involves cycles of relapse and remission. Without treatment or engagement in recovery activities, addiction is progressive and can result in disability or premature death.

Caroline Miller, author of the bestselling book "My Name is Caroline", recalls the bulimic dream job of cleaning up after the family meal in this excerpt from her memoir. 

Again, the loneliness of my disease reaches out to slap me as I recall vividly those scenes of despair and trying to cry out for real help, but shutting myself down just as quickly.  Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I wish I’d called even one of those therapists and taken the risk of being “seen” authentically, which would have broken the silence around me more decisively.  As it turned out, I had to get married to create the separation from my family that led me to finally seek help after hitting my last bottom.
 
I also wish I’d been something other than a number to my parents, who never seemed to comment on the fact that I was thriving academically at Harvard, and even on my way to graduating magna cum laude.  My brains came second to my body, and probably even to me at that point because it felt like the only thing anyone cared about.  What could have possibly made this nightmare end sooner for me?  More awareness of eating disorders, and open talk by people who were in recovery, and who could demystify the process of getting better.  It felt like a huge effort to even find the right people to reach out to, which is certainly not the case any longer.  There are blogs like this one, celebrities who go public (including the Disney actress who entered a treatment center this week for her eating disorder), and books galore for those who want to read more before they reach out. 
 
Still, there is always the shame and fear before identifying yourself as someone who is seen as “broken” by others, and whose behavior others find disgusting.  So I salute anyone who has the courage to raise their hand and ask for assistance, because by doing so, you enter a fraternity and sorority of some of the finest, most successful, and most interesting people on the face of the earth.

In this excerpt from her bestselling book on bulimia, Caroline Miller describes the criticism, shame and pressure that fueled her relentless self-loathing and despair.  Ordinarily successful in all her endeavors, Caroline has trouble accepting her inability to assert will power to fix her eating disorder.