I traded feelings for thinness

About the time that my grandfather died, I was super-depressed. Coupled with the stress of holding down a job and doing the grad-school thing, I started to lose weight. I by no means meant to lose weight. It just happened. I suppose it could be classified as the stress diet.

The more I lost weight, the more I was complimented on my appearance. Once, at a party, someone said, "You look great. You used to be so chunky." Chunky? Wow, I never thought of it like that. But it planted the seed in my mind. I used to be fat and ugly. Now I am thin and cute. It became a mantra.

At a time where my life was increasingly out of control, how wonderful that I could control my weight. My family is falling apart. Fine, I can at least be skinny. I am in a turbulant relationship. Fine, I can be skinny. I have deadlines that I'm not sure I can meet. Well, I look good. My friendships are not what I thought they were. I can starve and feel like the nothing that I think I am. Wow, who knew that being thin was such a great way to maintain some control over your life? I found the secret to control control control. Not to mention clothes fit me the way they fit fashion models. It's so easy.

Every part of my life that sucked became replaced with thoughts of counting calories and obsessing about the way my t-shirt fit. I could wear little kids' clothes, easy. I loved the way I looked. In fact, I loved it so much that I became obessessed with it. It was the only satisfying part of my life.

I would forgo social events with food. Best not to attend those, I might get fat. Instead, I looked forward to staying at home, eating my daily allowance of food (sometimes a baked potato, sometimes sauteed veggies, a salad maybe... with fat-free dressing of course). I was obsessed. But I was thin, did I mention that?

It was easy to keep the weight off. I was working in a restaurant with stairs, so I was running around a lot. I was doing yoga. I was starving myself. My friend Patsy was equally as thin. In fact, we had this backhanded way of envying one another through the concern of, "you look so thin." "No, you do. You need to gain weight." Blah, blah, blah. I don't know about Patsy, the more people expressed concern, the more I felt as though I'd controlled the seemingly uncontrollable.

I conceptually added to my moral superiority by asserting that I was thin not only out of the ability to control myself. I was also able to justify starving myself by convincing myself that I was making a political statement. "I don't consume more than my body needs. Thus I am not your typical, overconsumptive American." I would get angry at customers for overeating. Thus, I would get angry at myself if I happened to overeat. I was an anorexic with a political agenda.

The odd thing is, the more I sunk into anorexia, the more I disengaged from life. It was like I was starving myself emotionally and physically. I think this had a lot to do with the fact that Cris and I broke up and Brian, who I thought was Cris' antithesis, did not turn out to be the perfect being I thought he was. (Of course he wasn't... who is???) There was loss in my life left and right. I lost both my grandparents by that time, Cris, Brian, Becky, a social life, a sense of self, a security in my surroundings...and with it, I lost more and more weight. I was so proud.

I built this wall around myself. I didn't want to date because the person might find out that I was a human being. Besides, he might want me to eat food with him. I can't have that. It wasn't worth it anyway. I felt like I spent so much of my time sacrificing who I was to be in a relationship with Cris that I was unwilling to give up any of my time to be with someone. I was independent now. I didn't need anybody. Relationships, vulnerability, eating, all that was for suckers. I had the hold on life. I would read books, teach college and starve myself of food and affection. I didn't deserve the latter pleasures. These things only made my ugly side come out anyway. When I was in a relationship, people could see that I had mood swings and that I could be grumpy or irrational. Best not to let that side of myself show.

When I was eating, I was fat. Period. Fat, glutonous, overindulgent, and out of control. Best not to let that side of myself show.

With that, I stopped enjoying life. I can't really decide where it all came from, but I really have been unable to shed that part of me. For a while, I liked being alone. It was a first. But I created this whole life alone that now, now that I want people in my life, I don't know how to invite them. I don't want to party anymore, really. My bar life is over. But everyone I shut out has moved on. Now I don't know how to have a community anymore. I lost it. Now all I have is eating. Because the little indulgences I used to allow myself no longer fill the void of everything I let anorexia replace, I eat too much now. I am trying to replace all that I lost. I lost a lot and I can't run away from myself any longer. It's not enough anymore.

In fact, I wake up every morning and I wonder how I am going to control my appetite. I know it's not as much about controlling my appetite as making other things more important. It's like I don't know how to do that anymore.