Eating Disorders: A Fat Tuesday Memoir

Hi! I’m Nikki and I am an addict.

Seriously!

I’ve struggled with various eating disorders since I was ten years old. I started skipping breakfast in fourth grade when Adam Johnston told me I was a “chubby weirdo.” In retrospect, the joke’s on Adam Johnston because he gained sixty pounds after high school and went crazy bald. Regardless, my self-perception went downhill around that time and never really stopped.

In 9th grade, I dropped down to one salad and one Diet Peach Snapple per day, the perfect meal for a mom on-the-go. But not an active teenager. My parents’ solution was to supervise my meals, because, what else are you supposed to do when your high school freshman is going all Gandhi hunger strike on your asses? That worked for awhile, I gained weight, everyone would say things like, “You look less terrifying!” and “You’re still an asshole.” I felt good, but it was hard to forget that I used to fit into size 4 jeans.

At age 21, things really came to a head when I realized I could eat a bunch of bullshit and then just eject it a little later with my index finger. Perfect for the weight-conscious cuisine lover! I felt like a traveling food critic, sampling enormous portions of pasta, nachos, burgers and wings while maintaining a healthy weight. That was fine for a year or two, but eventually I realized if I wanted to actually lose weight, I’d have to work out, too.

Not being half-assed about anything I get involved in, I started going to the gym every day for a minimum of two hours. I made sure to fuel up before I went, with Adderall, a caffeine pill and a Diet Mountain Dew. Obviously the most embarrassing part of this equation is the Mountain Dew, better known as Alabama Bath Water. Guess what?! It worked! I lost about twenty pounds in one month and thought I looked great.

I distinctly remember this moment because it had an impact on me: I walked into my parents’ tv room while my dad was watching a rerun of Gunsmoke, because we’re a stoic family living in the past. As soon as he saw my gaunt frame, he started crying. My dad, the guy watching a cowboy show, was crying. That was the first moment I knew I needed help.

I’d love to say that from that moment on, I stopped starving myself, getting hopped up on pills and working out constantly, but I can’t. I went to a food counselor whose idea of treatment was for me to obsessively journal every single thing I ate. She also wore hideous hot pink lipstick and a perm. How can you take anyone seriously when they don’t even respect their own head? I quit going.

The past few years (I’m 28) have been full of ups and downs in regards to my weight and also depression. Much of this can be attributed to another thing I love to overdo it with, liquor! I guzzle it when I’m happy, I chug it when I’m sad. If it’s around, it’s not for long. About a year ago, I’d all but settled into my fate as the “Semi-Bloated Bulimic Sad Alcoholic.” Every day started feeling more hopeless than the last and my depression and habits were taking its toll on one of the best people on the planet, my husband. I’ll probably never forgive myself fully for what a bag of buttholes I was to him as a result of my own personal dissatisfaction. I finally realized, after yet another huge fight, that I had to fix myself or I was going to be a semi-bloated, bulimic, sad, LONELY alcoholic. That’s the worst and grossest kind to be, btw.

I decided last fall to go back to school. This is the best thing I have ever done for myself. Not only am I using my brain in a productive way, I do not have a disposable income with which to down a handle of vodka and $20 of takeout each night. I decided to become a vegetarian and this has been one of the healthiest choices I’ve made in a long time. I haven’t gorged or vomited in about two months, which is my longest streak since I started in the barfin’ business.

Why did I post this self-indulgent, incoherent memoir, you may be thinking. As an active member of Twitter and well, the internet, I see food addiction manifest itself in various forms all the time. Food addiction is typically a symptom of depression, which far too often goes untreated. I can see the pain behind the jokes and I understand it. I wish that we could all just agree to stop obsessing on food but that will never happen because America. So many of our thoughts, actions, and emotions are linked to food. I decided I had selfishly hidden my eating disorder for long enough. Maybe if we were all more open about our problems, we could take a deep breath of relief and work toward a solution.

If you have an eating disorder, please get help or try to find a routine that works for you. I know I’ll always be obsessed with food, now it’s just a matter of channeling it in a healthy way. I’ve done irreparable damage to my body over the years and have seen friends go through the same thing. I want us all to be healthy, I want us to live long lives and most importantly, I want us all to be happy. I love all you shitheads.

http://www.eating-disorder.com/