Accepting Your Illness: How Understanding Your Eating Disorder Aids Healing

By Bethany Finch

It took me a long time to accept the fact that I had struggles; that no matter how hard I tried to, I was not able to do ‘normal’ things without thinking about aspects others didn’t. 

If I thought of going to a party, it was never as simple as what will I wear? or what am I going to get to drink? It was will my tummy be obvious in this? What if I get uncomfortable in my clothes? There are too many calories in alcohol. But what if my friends judge me for not drinking? It’s always the thoughts that others would think of least. The question is, how can you grow away from having them?

The three-year gap between my Anorexia Nervosa diagnosis and becoming a whole new person again was not easy. Being a fourteen-year-old with an eating disorder is disconcerting, especially without the knowledge of how these things work, how they develop, where they lead and even how to overcome them. 

The term ‘eating disorder’ was always foreign to me. Growing up, I failed to understand how someone could ‘choose’ to go against the indulgence of eating. As I got older, I acted on the impulses of over-exercising, excessively counting calories, weighing food and shying away from others when eating. I never wondered why. It was just a way of life, a routine like everyone has. 

Consequently, I never understood the sheer calamitous nature of each action I undertook. Not only did I hurt myself, I hurt everyone around me, pushing away most friends and family. I knew things had to change, but how?

To begin recovering from your illness, you must be able to accept it. This acceptance can manifest in many ways. You can admit that you are sick (whether you believe it yourself or not). You can open up to others, allowing yourself to be comforted and supported. You can speak on how you feel, in the moment and during stressful trigger moments. 

One significant thing to keep in mind when struggling with any mental illness is that no matter what that illness may be, treat it as a physical illness, even if it is only stigmatised as a ‘mental’ one. This was one attribute of my eating disorder that took me some time to comprehend and act upon. 

When I first began to experience compulsive thoughts, I was still in school, about to study for my GCSEs. After a summer of being surrounded by other bodies, I began to feel displeased about my own. Before developing eating disorder thoughts, I would often act upon being a frivolous teenager, as expected: drinking way too much with friends, staying out late, wearing branded clothes as well as clothes a bit too small for me, despite my introverted nature. 

When my eating disorder thoughts began, these simple aspects of my life became distorted. The concept of drinking with friends then became a juggle between how much food I would be able to eat beforehand and the extra calories in the alcohol. Staying out late became the absurd question of what if I don’t get enough sleep and begin to gain weight? Those clothes I sought to wear became a tense, burdensome and taxing decision, as I was left to consider silly things like how much of my thighs or tummy or arms would be covered up by what I wore. Naturally, when we find stress in one thing, we seek comfort in another. For me, this was control of something in my life that nobody else could control for me: my caloric intake. 

Two years on from these thoughts, I had developed an understanding of how they’re triggered, from food-involved situations to those exercise-related and everything in between. Each thought would make me feel sick to my stomach and made me want to scream until I changed my perspective of them. 

If I was feeling anxious, I would tell the person closest to me; that way, they knew how I felt and I wasn’t alone. If I felt insecure, I would fixate my mind on something else. Keeping in mind my individuality, I would look at others around me and see their individuality too. Would I ever comment on their insecurities? No. So, why do it to me? If I felt guilty for eating too much, I would remind myself that I should be pleased that my body is nourished after all the stress I put it through during malnourishment. 

Understanding yourself and the way your mind and body reacts to certain situations and exposures can be remarkably significant in your healing process. And although it can be difficult to know when or where to start, I have a suggestion: how about here, how about now?