my eating issues

I had the idea for this blog post earlier this morning while just resting in bed waiting for it to be an acceptable time to get up, as I woke up at five. I wanted to write it all out there and then but I thought I would give myself time during the day to plan what I was going to put in the post, which I haven't done, but I wanted to at least write out this post so I have it ready to post whenever I feel that it is suitable, which is most likely today, depending on how well I write it.

A not so well known fact about me is that I have had eating issues in the past. I'm calling it an eating issue because I have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder, simply because I didn't want to see anyone about it, and I'm not sure whether it can be classed as disordered eating as I have never fully looked at what disordered eating consists of. An eating disorder is different from disordered eating for those of you that don't know. Some of you may pick me up and say that I have claimed to have had an eating disorder before, and yes that is true, but that was only ever when someone asked me what was 'wrong' with me, so I'd supply them with a very brief list with no detail, I referred to my eating issues as an 'ED' which lots of you will understand is a shortened form of 'eating disorder', but looking back I do regret even saying that I had an 'ED' as I had never been diagnosed, however my intention of sharing it was not to fool anyone, rather just to fit into a quick list that had been requested.

Now that that's out of the way I can finally explain what I mean by 'eating issues'.

For the last few years of my life, maybe four or five, I have struggled with eating issues, which usually involved restricting my food intake to a level which was unsustainable or starving myself completely. I am not sure why I developed these eating issues, but I do have a couple of ideas.

As a child, from as young as I can remember until I was about fourteen I would be called fat multiple times every single day by someone that I could not get away from. As well as calling me fat, they'd call me other names with the same meaning, but it was just their way of keeping it interesting for themselves. As a child I was never fat, I was a little chubby but I would never say fat at all. I was a healthy weight. I don't really think the name calling contributed to my eating issues though because as well as receiving insults about my weight, I would be called all sorts of other things. You name it, I've probably been called it. Although these insults hurt at the time and caused me to feel insecure for most of my life, they've had no lasting impact which is what leads me to believe that the names I had been called did not really contribute to my eating issues.

The other reason that I could think had been a causing factor in me developing eating issues is that both my parents are unhappy with their weights and have been for as long as I can remember. Because of this, they both diet. I won't go into detail because you all know dieting basics, but their constant dieting has caused me to feel bad about what I eat. They often make comments saying that I'm not eating enough, or that I'm not eating the right things, but when I increase what I eat and eat far more healthily they tell me that they are worried about me. As you can see, this is quite confusing for me, and growing up with this has caused me to have an odd relationship with food, where I almost fear it, but at the same time love it.



I remember the first day my eating issues actually began. I had an argument with my friend and I just remember from that point onwards I stopped eating. I still don't understand why, and I can't remember how long it was for, but I remember that during the next couple of weeks I lost a noticeable amount of weight. It wasn't until the next year that I began calorie counting. Calorie counting became quite a big issue for me, I had done it for a few years, but two years ago I remember it got really bad. I was surviving on less then three hundred calories per day (of which none of them were from a healthy or nutritious source) and I would be exercising for about two hours a day. I'd make exercise schedules and increase what I did every day, regardless of how tired or weak I felt.

I don't really remember how long all of that went on for, but I remember my friends starting to notice. I began to skip lunch at school and make up an excuse that I'd already eaten, which they knew was a lie because I was in the same classes as them and so we weren't really apart during the day.

I remember that stage as being a bad stage of my life. I hated that every single time I stood up, I'd have to hold onto something as my eyes went black and I went light headed. No matter how slowly I stood up, the lack of food inside me was negatively affecting me. I became weak and found even simple tasks like walking for twenty minutes very difficult. My collar bones, hip bones and ribs stuck out and this actually made things like sitting or lying down very uncomfortable. I remember looking down at my stomach each night and noticing it getting smaller and smaller every time. Soon I became more desperate and started going for five hour walks. I'd do this as often as I could, but I never remember enjoying the walks. I just saw them as something that I thought I needed to do.



I guess the next thing for me to say is that I'm better now. I still have some way to go, but I am so much better than I used to be, as I will explain soon. But you may be wondering how I got better. Well, it wasn't my choice. My parents finally got sick of me doing this to myself, and I remember that during meals they would sit with me until I ate every last bit of my food whether I wanted to eat it or not. After a while I realised that I wanted to do this for myself (it really did take a while), so I refused to let myself exercise (except walking, but only when necessary) and I ate suitably and regularly. I regained my weight and I'm at a healthy weight now.

About nine months ago, I finally let myself start to exercise again, and this is when I started running. I'd always wanted to run, but I knew that during my time of bad eating issues, I just didn't have the strength to do it. Starting exercising again was tough as part of me wanted to become obsessive again, but I knew that I needed to take it slowly. There have been times where I have been a little obsessive with my running, but I made up for it by eating right. Another thing I like about running is that you need to eat to be able to do well with it, so it's actually encouraging me to eat more which is great.

My eating habits are now so much more healthy than they have ever been and I can really tell that the healthy food is helping me. Best of all, I enjoy eating it! Food is slowly changing from something I hated and would avoid, to something I enjoy and look forward to.


I'm glad I'm at a healthy weight and eating well now, as I no longer have to worry about passing out every time I stand up, I can exercise whenever I like, and I'm learning to love food. But my eating issues did cause me to become very weak, and this means that I'm having to build up my strength, which is harder than I'd like it to be, but I'm enjoying the challenge. I still count calories sometimes, but no longer in a way to restrict myself, but a way to make sure I am eating the right about. It has been almost three weeks since the last time I counted calories and I am proud of myself for achieving that. And I do sometimes want to go back into my old ways, but I know that I have to keep myself healthy because that's more important to me than being thin.

I now have a pretty good body. Exercising and eating healthily has made me look so much better than I ever had before, and this just encourages me to keep myself healthy and take care of myself. Not only do I feel good, but I look good too. And yes, self confidence about the way I look is one of the many perks of me getting better.

You may notice that I have not included any details such as my weight during each stage, and this is because I believe that as I am moving past all of that, that the information is irrelevant.



I've never really told anyone this before. I've told people I trust little bits of it, but never the whole thing. This was quite a hard post for me to create and I hope that while reading this, you can respect how difficult it has been for me to open up about this. I wanted to be honest about it though because I feel that it is something that I have kept secret for too long, and I don't like the fact that I feel that I have to hide it. I applogise that the post is not as well written as it could be, but I was focussing more on getting out what I wanted to say rather than the way that I wanted to say it.