Why Does She DO That?

*Warning: Post contains talk of previous specific behaviors that I used to engage in, which may be triggering to those struggling. Please consider your current state in recovery before reading*

“Why does she DO that?”

Personally, one of the most frustrating and commonly asked questions that I face from outsiders is as follows: “Why does she DO that?” And not the type of question asked out of sheer curiosity, bewilderment, or concern. The type of question formulated from anger, frustration, judgement, and discontent with the current behaviors that characterize my life. Whether the question is asked between my parents, within the family, from concerned friends, even from strangers pondering over my quite obvious abnormal behaviors, it always seems to hit me the same way.

First, feelings of hurt. Anger. Frustration.

Next, feelings of shame. Separation. Abnormality.

Which further leads to feelings of loneliness. Isolation. Self-doubt and self deprecation. A never ending chain reaction of perilous emotions all leading to one predictable result. The further engagement in eating disorder and maladaptive behaviors. And hence the cycle repeats.

For countless years, the cycle would continually loop, without any sort of second thought, any sort of alternative behavior, never leaving room for me to stop and pause to ask myself one simple, important question.

Why DO I do that?

Why do I restrict my calories and food intake to such a severity that I put my body through the risk of deteriorating health? The risk of death?

Why do I wake up at the crack of dawn to fit in a workout, push my body to run the extra mile, and follow the strictest of exercise rule and rituals, despite my bodies desperate plea for rest, heart pounding, sweat dripping, legs failing?

Why do I formulate the strictest of dietary rules to follow, limiting my food intake to the cleanest of rawest of food products, fulfilling none of my body’s desires or cravings, fulfilling only the empty lies of the eating disorder?

Why do I cut my food up into microscopic bites, before I even begin the meal, only to push the food around my plate and stare at the pieces with severely strong anxiety and mistrust?

Why do I stand in front of my mirror for agonizingly long periods of time, pinching the non-existent fat on my stomach, searching and feeling for bones, criticizing each and every flaw I can point out on my body?

Why do I desperately avoid, at all costs, the food and drinks that come with parties, social events, and social interactions, answering with “I’m all set”, “I’m fine”, and “No thanks” when offered food, especially when I am unaware of the nutritional content or how it will fit into my “clean eating” diet?

Why do I count each and every calorie that I consume, logging each calorie, never allowing myself to consume foods of unknown caloric content, never allowing myself to exceed a predetermined calorie limit, never allowing myself the freedom of intuitive eating?

Why do I measure each and every food I consume, using both measuring cups and a food scale to ensure that the amount of food I am consuming is exactly the quantity that I have designated for a meal?

Why do I weigh myself multiple times a day, knowing that, no matter what the number is, I will never win, crippling in fear and angst when the number has increased, temporarily rejoicing in silence when the number has dropped, yet never feeling satisfied with the number that appears, regardless of how low?

Why do I spend countless waking hours in the torments of my brain, tirelessly over-analyzing my body, obsessing over every physical detail, every calorie I have consumed and have yet to consume, planning my days around the necessity of exercise and the most discreet ways to ultimately lose weight?

Why do I value my eating disorder over life?

Why do I do what I do?

I have finally taken a moment to pause. Pause the cycle of self-destruction and ask myself the same question that so many people direct at me. Maybe there is a reason for the common frequency of this question.

And maybe the answer to the question is the key to stopping the cycle once and for all.

I have found that the key to moving forward in recovery is analyzing the reasons for why I engage in the countless behaviors that have paralyzed my life during the extent of my eating disorder. And with these answers as to why these behaviors occur, I can direct myself to healthier, more productive actions and behaviors to fulfill the underlying needs and wants that my eating disorder so desperately attempts to satisfy.

So I am going to stop. And answer. And move forward.

I restrict, to the point of death, because restriction puts me in control. Restriction is predictable in its results. Eat less calories, lose more weight. A simple formula to follow. And in times where my life seems to be spiraling out of the grasp of my control, restriction will never fail to bring me a source of control.

I push myself to exercise in a driven, compulsive way because I am full of fear. Fear that if I miss just one workout, by any intensity, my body will rebel against me and my control over my appearance will instantly slip away from me. Yet again, exercise gives me a sense of control. Exercise more, burn more calories, lose more weight. Yet again, a simple formula to follow with predictable results.

I follow the strictest of dietary rules to control exactly what enters my body, knowing that if I feed my body only the cleanest of healthiest food products, I am cleansing my body from the inside out. I am restoring my body. If I eat exactly the same foods every day, my body will not react any differently than it did the day before, leading to more predictability and control over my body and life.

I cut up my food and push it around my plate to give the allusion that I am eating and engaging in a meal when, in reality, I aim to leave the meal with as little consumed as possible. I hope to hide my eating disorder from outsiders, putting up the “I’m fine” mask, preventing others from worrying about my wellbeing.

I dedicate countless hours to the mirror to keep close watch on my body, assuring to myself that I am indeed in control and that my body is changing according to plan.

I desperately avoid food and drinks at social gatherings in order to exhibit the most self control within a social setting, priding myself in my ability to not give in to temptation, to remain in control of my desires.

I count every calorie, eating only foods of exact, known calories because I feel in the most control when I can connect an exact number with my consumption. I measure out every single food I put in my body to quantify the calories I have eaten. If I can exactly quantify the amount I have eaten, I will know exactly the outcome on the scale, the outcome in my appearance.

I weigh myself multiple times a day to keep close eye on my body, having a number to be able to quantify the amount to which I have succeeded in remaining in control, the amount to which I have succeeded in reaching my goal of the number zero.

I spend countless hours in the torments of my eating disorder because it gives me immediate rules, answers, and predictability for my life in a world that can be at times ruleless, answerless, and unpredictable. My eating disorder promises me control. And I believe the lie.

Notice any resemblances between answers?

An ever present similarity has proven itself within each of my answers. The desire for control. An immediate, predictable form of power and control.

Yet every single behavior leads to the eventual, complete and utter loss of control in every sense. Every single behavior leads to powerless, helplessness, and unpredictability.

So I return to the same question. If I know that none of my behaviors lead to my desires and need for control, leading me, instead, towards the exact opposite outcome, why do I do what I do?

Many eating disorders are driven by the need and desire for control. Many people struggling with an eating disorder were, at one time, at a loss of control, and in order to grasp back onto any form of control in their lives, they latched onto food, whether that be through restriction, bingeing, purging, or over-exercise. In my case, I felt completely out of control when my twin sister was diagnosed with cancer at the age of nine. And at first, exhibiting control over food seems like the simple, immediate answer. Because at first, the eating disorder does seem to give back the control missing in your life. Control over your food intake, control over the number on the scale, control over whether the food stays in or outside of your body. And with this initial sense of control, it seems obvious to continue such behaviors. Why stop when you have finally achieved the control that was once so absent from your life?

The eating disorder gains strength in this time period, the thoughts becoming stronger, more frequent, and inevitably, more irrational. The eating disorder clouds your judgement, creating a false reality. And in no time, the life that temporarily held control has lost all control again. Deteriorating health and health consequences. Family concern, arguments, and tension. Torn relationships. Lost education, jobs, and opportunities. Treatment and intervention of medical professionals. And even death. The ultimate loss of control.

But the eating disorder will cover this up. Lie its way around the fact that you have lost all control.

And for nine years, I believed these ugly, deadly lies. I believed as I lay in a hospital bed with a nasogastric tube forcing liquid nutrition into my sickly body that I still held onto control when I held absolutely no control over the body laying so still under the authority of medical professionals.

But after five hospitalizations, I have finally learned. The eating disorder gives me absolutely. No. Control. It strips me of absolutely everything, from control, to predictability, to freedom, to happiness, to love, to opportunity, to life.

It strips me from me. The ultimate loss of control.

And so this is the time when I direct my desire and need for control towards healthy, positive actions and behaviors. This is the moment of change to step out from the cycle of repetition that has held me hostage for so long.

Instead of restricting, compulsive exercising, losing weight, calorie counting, measuring, strict dietary rules and guidelines, and obsessive overthinking for a false sense of control, I have begun to turn to a variety of healthy sources of control.

Control over my education, my study habits, my love for learning.

Control over my goals for the future, my goal to become a nurse, a writer, a speaker.

Control over my hobbies and passions, my use of my talents.

Control over my vision for my future, my future full of happiness, success, and love.

And these are just a few. There are countless ways to experience healthy forms of control without latching onto an eating disorder. Countless forms that I am in the process of discovering and implementing into my life.

Through my exploration to the question “Why DO I do that?”, I hope that I have fulfilled two main objectives: to help explain myself and my behaviors to the many people who have asked the question “Why does she DO that?” and to help others struggling with an eating disorder to explore their own maladaptive, unhealthy behaviors, habits, and rituals and stop to answer my question for you, why do YOU do what you do? And how can you use these answers to fulfill your underlying wants and needs in healthier, more productive ways for your future and health?

I hope that my search between the lines drawn by my eating disorder can help shed light upon the possible reasons for your own eating disorder behaviors and can lead you towards a healthier, happier path in life, a path towards recovery.

So, to everyone who has directed the question “Why does she DO that?” in my direction, thank you. Thank you for helping me to pause. Stop the cycle of destruction. Answer your question. And learn. About myself and about my key to recovery.

Self exploration is the deepest, most powerful form of discovery.

And I will never stop exploring, never stop on the journey to save Shell.