Life with an eating disorder is difficult, but Christmas can feel unbearable says writer Hattie Gladwell...
As a teenager, I hated Christmas. Not because of the annoying festive music everywhere, or the fact you can’t step foot in your local supermarket without bumping into someone you know. I hated Christmas because I was living with an eating disorder. From the age of fifteen until eighteen, I suffered from bulimia. It started at school – I’d never been large, but I was overweight and self-conscious about it. It was made worse when I started receiving comments about my weight from other kids at school.
I remember two boys walking behind me on the way home one afternoon, as they pointed at my legs (laughing and calling them ‘tree trunks’). Another time, I saw someone at a music festival who I hadn’t seen for a long time, and they commented on how much ‘bigger I was in person than online’. And once I heard another boy in class saying they could could never fancy me “because she’s too fat”. Turning red, I pretended to carry on reading and prayed none of my friends had heard. I was never ‘bullied’ exactly, but these comments stuck with me – and still hurt almost 10 years later.
I don’t remember the first time I made myself sick, but I remember feeling like I finally had control over my body. I loved food – I always had – but this way I could eat /and/ get rid of it. Soon, I was bingeing for hours at night in secret (I’d restrict food during the day then binge and purge when my family was asleep). I remember sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark eating bowls of ice cream, cakes and a whole packet of chocolate bars in one sitting, before running to the bathroom. I wouldn’t stop until I was sure I’d got it all out, running the shower so my family didn’t hear. Other times, I’d pretend to have a stomach bug so nobody suspected anything.
Eating disorders are different for everyone but for me, bulimia was largely about control –and Christmas messed with that. When you’re not suffering from an eating disorder, the holidays are a time to forget about your waistline and just enjoy all the goodies (tins of chocolates, the mince pies, the roast potatoes) which threw my routine into disarray. Christmas 2011 was particularly hard. I remember staring at the Cadbury’s Milk Tray my family had given me on Christmas morning, as everyone around me tucked into chocolates and Bucks Fizz.
Hattie
Somebody asked me why I hadn’t opened my selection box yet and I lied, saying I didn’t fancy it. But the truth was, ‘bingeing’ (how I viewed eating chocolates) was something I was too ashamed to do in front of others.
When it came to Christmas dinner, things were even harder – everything was just piled onto plates, and working out how many calories things contained became impossible. Because I couldn’t bring myself to finish my meal, I pretended I wasn’t feeling well. I remember thinking there was food /everywhere/ I looked and everyone else was eating it except me. It didn’t make sense – how could they binge with others watching? That’s when it dawned on me that I was different – this wasn’t about ‘control’ to my family, it was about letting go and enjoying the day. But I couldn’t do that. That night I binged when everyone was asleep, eating all the foods I’d avoided throughout the day. And then, in true form, I purged. Afterwards, I felt ashamed and guilty, like I’d lost all control.
Eating disorder charity Beat has some suggestions for anyone coping with an eating disorder over Christmas. They suggest planning Christmas dinner in advance or talking to loved ones about portion sizes before it’s dished up – perhaps some food could be kept away from the table, or conversation could be steered away from food to make things a little easier. They say the urge to binge usually comes an hour or two after eating, so during this time it’s good to distract yourself with a game or a film to help take your mind off food – or could presents be saved until after dinner, perhaps?
Personally, I think having someone to confide in – who you can talk to on Christmas Day or in the run-up – is most helpful. You don’t have to tell them everything but having someone ‘in your corner’ can make you feel less alone, and supported. It wasn’t until I started dating somebody at 18 who encouraged me to seek help, that I was able to find support and stop making myself sick. I only wish I’d had that support sooner.
If you have an eating disorder and you’re worried about this Christmas, Beat’s helpline is open from 4 – 8pm from 24 December to 1 January. Call Beat on 0808 801 0677.
The post What it’s like having an eating disorder at Christmas appeared first on Marie Claire.
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