I thought my eating disorder was my protector, but I have been anorexia's prey

I increased my dosage of antidepressants today. With the loosening of Victoria’s Covid restrictions and the surge of New Year’s weight loss marketing, my eating disorder has once again overwhelmed me with feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing.

I’m splayed on the couch, light-headed and nauseous; classic side effects of my medication. But it’s worth it. Antidepressants have been a life-saving intervention in my mental health journey, particularly in the past year. I’m so glad I never listened to the fear-mongering and mythology which surrounds them. The notions that I would “feel nothing” and that my “personality would change” have turned out to be completely unfounded. To the contrary, they have allowed me to live my life free from perpetual rumination, anxiety and self-harm. In the short term, though, I am dizzy.

I’ve been recovering from an eating disorder for over five years. The illness has infiltrated my mind and robbed me of joy. I have missed out on dinners, parties and holidays because of my chronic fear of gaining weight. I have spent hours at the gym instead of seeing friends and have self-harmed after eating food I perceive as unhealthy. I have internalised so deeply that my value lies in my proximity to thinness that my self-worth has become directly proportional to how little I can consume on any given day. I have been anorexia’s prey, all while thinking that it was my friend and protector, my arbiter of discipline.

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When I heard that gyms were going to be closed during the pandemic, I spiralled into paranoia. My mind was plagued with visions of my future obesity, accompanied with delusions that my friends, family and partner would find me repulsive. While I recognised the absurdity of these claims, the power of the illness was overbearing; my rationality did not stand a chance. My fears were validated by the endless barrage of home workouts which were marketed to me and I loathed myself for not creating an at-home gym using my couch and some sacks of rice or lifting my fridge a hundred times a day. My mind repeated its bigoted script: You are so lazy, you are weak, you are repulsive.

With so much time on my hands during Victoria’s extended lockdown, with uni being online and still with no work for me to go to, it became even easier to berate my appearance. Hours were spent in front of the mirror, pinching my skin, measuring my waist, checking my reflection from every angle for signs of imperfection.

I felt profoundly lonely in these ruminations and feelings. It seemed like everyone else could eat and exist without a second thought. But I recognise now that I wasn’t the only one. Around one million Australians suffer from eating disorders and the limitations of extended Covid lockdowns and restrictions have reportedly worsened many people’s illnesses. Disruptions to routine, use of videoconferencing (which exposes individuals to their own image) and increased marketing of weight-loss programs have also culminated in heightened negative body image and restrictive behaviours in the general population.

Now in the New Year, I once again feel victimised by the fitness industry. It jeers that I need to fix myself, become thinner and transform into a better “me”.
My eating disorder agrees, bolstered by this external validation. Years of therapy have taught me that I need to resist the compulsion to appease my illness and buy into this narrative, but it’s so hard when both the outside world and my internal dialogue is telling me otherwise. I feel defeated, but equally, I feel enraged.

It’s the same trick every year. Images of models chiseled and photoshopped to perfection, thrust upon us all to inspire feelings of inadequacy, all cloaked in the language of health. Ads meticulously engineered to target feelings of insecurity so we buy whichever product promises us thinness and eternal happiness. No wonder eating disorders are so prevalent. It’s essential to raise awareness for the insidiousness of these tactics and advocate for better mental health education.

I’m glad I can finally recognise this propaganda for what it is. I’ve lost years of my life to an eating disorder and I will not lose any more.

The truth is I don’t want to lose weight in 2021. I want to gain mental wellbeing.

• In Australia, support is available at Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636, Lifeline on 13 11 14, and at MensLine on 1300 789 978. In the UK, the charity Mind is available on 0300 123 3393 and Childline on 0800 1111. In the US, Mental Health America is available on 800-273-8255