Disordered.
As a child, I was what the doctors referred to as "over weight." I was tall and had wide shoulders, so I didn't get the kind of medical advice in my small-town clinic as I probably should have. After all, when I joined the military and was weighed, I had to be "taped" to determine if I was healthy enough for the Air Force. At the time, I started working out, eating right, and was over my 226 lb. limit for a 6'5" individual. I was closer to 240 and therefore, overweight.
As an adolescent, none these numbers mattered outside of the number on the scale. Rather than being worried about being too large, any muscle mass, or too tall, I heard one number, and my goal was to drastically reduce that number to one that I determined appropriate. After months of struggling, 174 was the number to be at. Instead of doing anything smart, talking about stuff, or trying to, "eat better," I took it 10 steps further, or rather 5 steps back and stopped eating.
At first, it was not eating until 6:30 PM. Then it grew to the entire day. Eventually it had gotten to the point where I could go over 48 solid hours, or Sunday evening through Wednesday into the evening, without eating. On top of that, when numbers are the name of the game, I would dehydrate myself too. Yes, I would avoid water because water weighs something and stepping on the scale after a glass of water meant I weighed more than before, so it was hard to override that common sense.
I recall a successful, high-school wrestler at the time saying how he was so dehydrated before a match to try and make weight (back before they stopped that sort of thing from happening) that when he drank water, he immediately started sweating.
This was my life. I didn't talk about it, because I knew it was weird, and my "thing," and I was scared someone would intervene and try to stop me (almost happened once). I knew what I was doing wasn't healthy, but I also found control for the first time in my life. Rather than being at the mercy of my cravings, or falling victim to being just another fat kid, I took control. I made a sacrifice every day to stop myself from being fat. One slip was all it took to remind me of who I was trying not to be.
Yea, I had other obligations, and somehow, I was able to pull it together to perform. However, just like a drunk college kid who is reminded what they did the night before, I cringe when someone reminds me of what I was like during that time period. There was no way I was even semi-functional in social interactions. Even some of the memories I have with friends were tainted with my desire to go home and eat if I was allowing it that night or if not, just to be without any pressure to eat.
My mom made her comments, and I brushed them off. My dad thought things were off, but I isolated. My parents wanted their children to be successful, so grades were a large focus and I got good grades. For these reasons, I was left alone. I lived in the basement and stayed to myself, but more importantly, stayed out of trouble. I was left to my own 15-16 year-old mentality to drive all my thoughts. I was obsessive, and unhealthy, but started to receive compliments and recognition from people. Attractive people. People that I looked up to and thought were cool.
My new found recognition was secondary to the high I received when I went a few days without food. For anyone who has never engaged in any anorexic or bulimic activity, then it is hard to understand. The body reacts to pain through a pleasure response, My body was doing this in overdrive. Not only was I engaging in restrictive eating for others to notice, but then the obsession took over and wouldn't allow me to go back to anything remotely "normal." I was at the mercy of an identity in being "thin," feeling in control. Even through the physical pain, the mental turmoil if there was a binge or "slip" in dieting, was worse. I would rather deal with hunger pangs (physical) than deal with discourse from eating when I wasn't "supposed to" (mental).
Luckily, my senior year in high school, I discovered weight-lifting, and read a Muscle and Fitness magazine in my mom's van after I was intrigued by the cover. I cannot recall exactly, however it appealed to me, called to what I could use my tall frame and wide shoulders for. I started to take weight training seriously and read the magazines (before online forums became popular) and therefore started eating more food. I took my need to be "thin" and turned it into a need to be "big." I absorbed magazines like they were words in the Bible. I ate what foods were recommended, lifted, even spent my last pennies on protein powder, I thought was required.
Yes, I took to the lifestyle of bodybuilding as though it was going to save me, and in a way, it did. Instead of not eating and getting a high and feeling a sense of control on that, I was lifting, eating, and started to feel more confidence in regards to my physical stature.
No compliments came about from this, until college. Though it led to another decade and a half of obsessions inside the gym and out.
My obsession and desire to be something, even to excess was not what I set out to do in either one of my scenarios, however it was what my mind latched on to. Parents if you cannot understand a behavior in your child, then try to. Demanding change, or ignoring something is a problem, or worse, minimizing and therefore normalizing behaviors have lasting effects.
My parents did the best they could. I simply didn't listen at the time. I isolated, manipulated, and justified my extremes. What could have been different, I do not know. What I do know is that some of the biggest problems I now deal with in working with people who struggled early in life is that that they never felt heard, and therefore looking for someone to listen. I believe to this day, the reason I was able to change was due to my parents early concern and small bits of advice spoken, but not used. I may not even be able to recall, however I always knew they loved me, they cared, and they did the best they could.
Nobody does parenting "right." Just like a cheesy commercial with a dad fumbling around with a tool, trying to help his son, indicated, "Just be there." Ask questions, learn about what is popular these days, and I guess if you notice something a miss, show compassion, understanding, and love no matter what you find out.
God Bless
At first, it was not eating until 6:30 PM. Then it grew to the entire day. Eventually it had gotten to the point where I could go over 48 solid hours, or Sunday evening through Wednesday into the evening, without eating. On top of that, when numbers are the name of the game, I would dehydrate myself too. Yes, I would avoid water because water weighs something and stepping on the scale after a glass of water meant I weighed more than before, so it was hard to override that common sense.
I recall a successful, high-school wrestler at the time saying how he was so dehydrated before a match to try and make weight (back before they stopped that sort of thing from happening) that when he drank water, he immediately started sweating.
This was my life. I didn't talk about it, because I knew it was weird, and my "thing," and I was scared someone would intervene and try to stop me (almost happened once). I knew what I was doing wasn't healthy, but I also found control for the first time in my life. Rather than being at the mercy of my cravings, or falling victim to being just another fat kid, I took control. I made a sacrifice every day to stop myself from being fat. One slip was all it took to remind me of who I was trying not to be.
Yea, I had other obligations, and somehow, I was able to pull it together to perform. However, just like a drunk college kid who is reminded what they did the night before, I cringe when someone reminds me of what I was like during that time period. There was no way I was even semi-functional in social interactions. Even some of the memories I have with friends were tainted with my desire to go home and eat if I was allowing it that night or if not, just to be without any pressure to eat.
My mom made her comments, and I brushed them off. My dad thought things were off, but I isolated. My parents wanted their children to be successful, so grades were a large focus and I got good grades. For these reasons, I was left alone. I lived in the basement and stayed to myself, but more importantly, stayed out of trouble. I was left to my own 15-16 year-old mentality to drive all my thoughts. I was obsessive, and unhealthy, but started to receive compliments and recognition from people. Attractive people. People that I looked up to and thought were cool.
My new found recognition was secondary to the high I received when I went a few days without food. For anyone who has never engaged in any anorexic or bulimic activity, then it is hard to understand. The body reacts to pain through a pleasure response, My body was doing this in overdrive. Not only was I engaging in restrictive eating for others to notice, but then the obsession took over and wouldn't allow me to go back to anything remotely "normal." I was at the mercy of an identity in being "thin," feeling in control. Even through the physical pain, the mental turmoil if there was a binge or "slip" in dieting, was worse. I would rather deal with hunger pangs (physical) than deal with discourse from eating when I wasn't "supposed to" (mental).
Luckily, my senior year in high school, I discovered weight-lifting, and read a Muscle and Fitness magazine in my mom's van after I was intrigued by the cover. I cannot recall exactly, however it appealed to me, called to what I could use my tall frame and wide shoulders for. I started to take weight training seriously and read the magazines (before online forums became popular) and therefore started eating more food. I took my need to be "thin" and turned it into a need to be "big." I absorbed magazines like they were words in the Bible. I ate what foods were recommended, lifted, even spent my last pennies on protein powder, I thought was required.
Yes, I took to the lifestyle of bodybuilding as though it was going to save me, and in a way, it did. Instead of not eating and getting a high and feeling a sense of control on that, I was lifting, eating, and started to feel more confidence in regards to my physical stature.
No compliments came about from this, until college. Though it led to another decade and a half of obsessions inside the gym and out.
My obsession and desire to be something, even to excess was not what I set out to do in either one of my scenarios, however it was what my mind latched on to. Parents if you cannot understand a behavior in your child, then try to. Demanding change, or ignoring something is a problem, or worse, minimizing and therefore normalizing behaviors have lasting effects.
My parents did the best they could. I simply didn't listen at the time. I isolated, manipulated, and justified my extremes. What could have been different, I do not know. What I do know is that some of the biggest problems I now deal with in working with people who struggled early in life is that that they never felt heard, and therefore looking for someone to listen. I believe to this day, the reason I was able to change was due to my parents early concern and small bits of advice spoken, but not used. I may not even be able to recall, however I always knew they loved me, they cared, and they did the best they could.
Nobody does parenting "right." Just like a cheesy commercial with a dad fumbling around with a tool, trying to help his son, indicated, "Just be there." Ask questions, learn about what is popular these days, and I guess if you notice something a miss, show compassion, understanding, and love no matter what you find out.
God Bless
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