Communicating distress without using words
It was some years after receiving treatment for my eating disorder that I realised I was using anorexia nervosa as a way to communicate my distress. I now see that this was not a long-term, effective solution, and it came with significant risk to my emotional, mental, and physical wellbeing.
Don’t get me wrong — the ability to show my distress without using words was a very powerful tool, especially when I felt I couldn’t voice my opinions or confront people who had wronged me, through fear that I would be a horrible person for doing so, but also because I needed to avoid confrontation at any cost.
After I had been in therapy, where I had opened up and communicated the difficult thoughts, feelings, and experiences that I had been internalising for some years, my anorexia had served its purpose as a method to alert others to my hidden pain. But by this time it had become ingrained and morphed into other variations of the disease. I was left in the grips of a relentless, futile eating disorder that had no intention of letting me go.
My fragile appearance didn’t always have the desired effect either, because as time passed and I repeatedly yo-yoed between treatment and pointless relapsing, my efforts to lose weight didn’t phase those around me quite so much. This, combined with my wearing baggy clothing to hide my weight loss, meant my ED was mostly redundant in its role as a method to express my inner turmoil. It had progressed well beyond that point.
The longer my eating disorder went on, the less impact my weight loss had on those around me. They were obviously concerned and desperately wanted to help me, but they eased off, which was likely the result of me shutting them out, but also a method to protect themselves. I didn’t blame them one bit, because purging anorexia made my life miserable, and there was no need to bring others down with me.
As a defence mechanism and a way to hide from real life, I distanced myself from people and retreated into a world that consisted of just me and my eating disorder. Not only was this to protect those around me, but I was unknowingly shielding myself from the unbearable guilt that came with being in their presence and having to look them in the eye. I also knew I would probably have to lie to their faces during conversation to hide the extent of my symptoms and shield my ED. My loyalty was in the completely wrong place.
Although my loved ones could clearly see my mental and physical pain, they were unable to do anything to help me because I wouldn’t let them. Today I feel so bad that I put them through so much stress and fear, but it was not me. I know with absolute certainty that I would NEVER intentionally hurt my loved ones in any way, shape, or form. This just shows me how much manipulation and power my ED had over my mind and body.
Looking back, my weight loss and fragile appearance did exactly what I had subconsciously intended at the beginning, which was to make people see I was desperately struggling in life. But it became far more than this and escalated beyond anything I could have imagined, taking on a life of its own and destroying my entire being like a destructive forest fire spreading in the wind. I was left a shadow of a person and a mere puppet to a torturous, remorseless disease that was determined to take over every inch of my life.
I now see that there are far more effective forms of communication that do not come at a cost to my health and sanity. If only I had seen this at the start and had the confidence to stand up for myself instead of internalising every difficult thought and feeling, my ED wouldn’t have had this as an additional weapon to use against me.
It turns out that letting people in and forming new relationships has given me the gift of learning how to trust, communicate, and share difficult feelings and daily stresses with those close to me, where I can process and vent without fear or judgement. The chance to reciprocate and be there for friends and family has been rewarding and has given me the opportunity to build true, loyal relationships that I never thought I would have.
Since reaching recovery, I have also learned that voicing my opinions and asserting myself does not make me a horrible person at all, but a person who is unique, individual, and who does not need to internalise every thought and feeling for fear of upsetting those around them. Learning this and applying it to my life has gained me respect from others, given me confidence, and boosted my self-esteem.
My eating disorder wanted to keep me vulnerable and submissive, where I was turning everything in on myself, convincing me I needed IT to be heard, taken seriously, and able to communicate my distress. It wanted to keep me in my place so it could dictate my life.
In reality, my eating disorder did not want me to have a voice, an opinion, or the strength to stand up for myself, because it was terrified that one day I’d wake up, smell the coffee, and finally assert myself against ‘IT’.
Well, that fear was real, because that is exactly what happened and exactly what I did.
No eating disorder will ever be able to convince me I need ‘IT’ to be taken seriously or to be heard ever again!
Please refer to the video above to find out more about how I used my eating disorder as a means to communicate my distress, and how I realised this was not as effective as I had first thought and came at significant cost to my wellbeing.
