Translation: Tell the effin’ truth.
You know you’ve been at home and answering the door far too often, when you’ve started quoting the 9th of the ten commandments that Enid and Mary so passionately told you about last week. However please don’t interpret my false gratitude of your ‘Kingdom of God’ pamphlet to be joining you in your meeting next week because: ‘thou shalt not bear false witness’… But I sincerely just don’t want to be there.
Little white lies are undoubtedly embedded in our day-to-day lives. We proclaim in our politest of voices, “Don’t worry, it’s okay!” that you’re taking away the speed of self-service and sweetly stating “I don’t mind” that you’re taking 25 minutes to find bananas in the bakery section of the screen’s categories. Example 1 of a little white lie.
It’s not so much that I lied, but eating disorders are a world of such complex truths, secrets and even shames: the hardest for me being binge eating. This is something that very few people knew but helps create a picture of the greater depths to the complications of what anorexia was for me during these episodes. I by no means speak on behalf of anyone else, but this was quite possibly worse than the endless emaciation, the relentless running on exhausted limbs, the incessant night-time shivers and the continuous constriction to routine deviation. Binge eating left me feeling more ashamed than discovering what it was that you did after the bottle of vodka last night, more depressed than if I had just remained starving, but mostly, it made me feel incredibly concerned of what little control I seemed to have had in my attempts to stop it happening.
How it started, I’ve no idea. But no sooner, had binge eating become implanted into my weekly routine, usually late at night, and of course, in secret. There would come a point to the week, where I’d simply become so overwhelmingly hungry, that my body would put me in to what felt like this trance, and I would not be able to stop myself from eating every chocolate, biscuit, ice cream and sweet snack that could be found in the aisles of Tesco Express. Eating like I had never seen food before. I would be completely unaware of what I was doing, and I was simply not able to stop. I’d only be reminded of what had happened after I’d pass out, from the remnants of the empty packaging left around me and in the bin.
Ever had that feeling of waking up in your bed after a night in the town and not having the faintest idea to what had happened? This is what happened to me every time I ate in excess like this. I couldn’t remember what was happening while I ate, because my body really had fallen in to this incomprehensible trance.
Thankfully, I didn’t always purge after such occurrences though sometimes the shame was just too much, therefore I had to. As my university councillor had said, that it was probably these binges that kept my body functioning for as long as it did. I never, ever want to find myself feeling that sort of hunger again because the complete shame and embarrassment of how much I’d eat in such a short period of time is indescribable, and that’s not even beginning to think about the internal damage I must’ve been doing.
Just know that there is so much more to an eating disorder or anorexia on the inside, than to what just looks like eating an apple a day on the outside. It also works the same for me now. Even though I appear to be eating, which I am no doubt enjoying, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a constant internal battle still happening on the inside and that all is well.