**** Okay, I just want to say, this is weird.
It’s weird writing this kind of post right now when I’m counting down the minutes till I see my family again. Because what happened in this post was almost exactly four years ago, and my relationship with my parents right now is at opposite ends. As much as I hate writing what happened then, it was one of the key moments of my life and I have to write it—no bars held. By the way, my parents read this series. We’ve reached a level where we just open up everything and communicate freely. So none of this is private, really. But it’s just…weird. Because the kind of emotions and thoughts I had during this month four years ago…is completely unrecognizable to me now, yet distinctly memorable.
Anyway. Here goes. ****
I don’t know about you…but for me, I suffer the greatest anguish and loneliness during the times when I’m at acrimonious terms with two entities: God and my parents.
There is just something so unnatural and painful about being distant from them. It’s almost like I’ve lost a sense of belonging in life, almost like having my limbs cut off. I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself, and I suddenly feel so horribly alone and unloved.
Well, almost exactly four years ago, I was bitter towards both God and my parents. And it was the most agonizing experience in my entire life.
Of course, all that hurt was self-afflicted. As mentioned on my last post, after I realized I would never be able to return to Northwestern, I got consumed with rage. As much as I blamed myself, I also blamed God and my parents. The sense of betrayal and resentment only grew and grew because I left the wound gaping open. Each day I tore apart the wound again and again by dwelling on the fact that I hated my body, I hated my life, I hated myself. At the same time, I felt immensely guilty because I still loved my parents. And I knew that they loved me. But in a twisted way, that love only fueled my antagonism because I hated the way it made me feel. Like I owe them true recovery because they love me and sacrificed so much for me. Oh God, I felt so guilty!
Speaking of God— I was the most upset at God. Because He let this happen. He could have so easily changed the doctor and dean’s minds and let me go back to school. Why, He could have just as easily healed me. Let me stop obsessing about food and weight. Let me be normal. Let me be happy. But no, He has to make me suffer. He has to make me so humiliated and ashamed of myself, because He would not treat my mental disorder.
I felt cheated. I felt like all the little testimonies I made to my brothers and sisters in church were lies and hypocrisy. I was a big fat hypocrite. And God was to blame, because even though my parents, the church and I prayed so freaking much for healing, He denied me that. Instead, my disorder just evolved and got worse. What the hell did this mean?!
I had experienced enough of God’s power and presence to know that He is alive. That belief never wavered. But the fact that God is alive and powerful, yet didn’t manage to heal me? Well, that made the situation worse. Because that meant that God had cast me aside. I felt like He denied me recovery because I wasn’t pious enough. I probably should have prayed more, read the bible more.
But what the hell? That’s the way God will grant me mental and physical happiness and freedom? He wants me to be some sort of sanctimonious, goody-goody nun?! What about all the other wicked people out there? Why can’t they have anorexia? Why are they all healthy and shit, and me, at just 18 years old, get punished for not being religious enough? What the fuck did I do to deserve this? What the fuck did my family do to deserve this?
Such were the frenzied thoughts that rampaged me. I refused to touch the bible. I went to church because my parents forced me, but I tuned out completely. I even hated all the people in church, hated their hymns and praise to God, hated them being so…holy. Negative thoughts and emotions just piled and piled inside me that I would scream out loud to release the spiritual suffocation. At times I just shut myself in my room and slapped or clawed myself, hating myself so much that I wanted to die.
But I was still too cowardly to kill myself outright. The only way I knew how to kill myself was just to be even more disordered.
I don’t want to go into details, but let’s just say I did everything I could to become anorexic again. And I didn’t really hide it from God or my parents.
My parents could sense me slipping away, and they could sense my unhappiness, but they were at a loss of what to do. I was a different person then, different from that scared little girl at the hospital who promised to try her best to recover, who willingly prayed and read the bible with them. That girl was replaced by a horribly bitter girl full of hate and negativity.
The night that it happened, I knew it was coming. I was deliberating just pushing and pushing at my parents until they gave in. So when it finally did, I wasn’t surprised at all.
My parents and I got into a huge fight. As always, it was over my disordered habits. But this time, my dad wasn’t going to just let it slide lightly. He was livid. I thought he was going to break my limbs, and he threatened to. All throughout that ordeal, I felt a sick sense of relief. I wanted to be screamed at. I wanted to be hated. Because that was all I thought I deserved, and as my dad roared and my mother wept, I just thought mildly, “Well, finally. It took you long enough to blow up. Why don’t you just fucking kill me and everyone will be put out of their misery?”
My dad didn’t kill me (duh), but he did kick me out of the house. Basically, he told me he couldn’t stand it anymore, and that I no longer belonged to the family.
So I left. It’s what I wanted anyway. I wanted to leave the house, distance myself from my family, and just…do whatever the Eating Disorder demon wanted me to do.
I packed up my belongings, took the car, and left.
The first couple weeks, my good friend Jane let me stay at her house. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, especially because I never stopped my eating disordered behaviors and it was clear that I was sick in the mind. Jane’s mother, who is a Christian, really tried to take care of me and pray for me, but I wasn’t interested in talking to God, and I certainly wasn’t interested in recovery anymore. But I will forever be grateful to Jane and her family. Even though there wasn’t much they could do, they gave me a place to stay and was a small comfort to me during those hard times.
Later, I discovered that an old high school friend of mine was also in bad terms with her parents, so we both started looking for a place to stay together. We later found a relatively affordable basement to lease from a Korean couple.
So there I was. An angry, disowned girl whose determination to stay angry and bitter has eventually unleashed her into the wild. I was by myself now. And at the moment, I truly thought this would be the rest of my life.
I would be alone. I would never speak to my parents. I would work, try to apply to another college. I’ll pick a college as far away from Northern Virginia as possible, and I would never return. I’ll be as Anorexic as possible, and if it kills me, so be it. I hate my life anyway.
Question to Ponder:
Uh, don’t really know what thoughtful questions I can follow up with a dramatic post as this. Feel free to add whatever story or comment you have that relates to this, or well…basically anything. “Fuck Anorexia” would be nice.
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{ 33 comments… read them below or add one }
Thanks for sharing so honestly and openly. I definitely had the same feelings in the past. I was so bitter and angry against God and it affected my relationship with my parents as well. I didn’t get kicked out, but we fought so many times. My parents didn’t understand what was going on and I was cranky 24/7 from hunger. But the worst part was definitely the distance that kept growing bigger between me and God because I refused to admit my problem to him or believe that he loves me. Now I can confidently say that God rescued me from that crazy time! Looking back, I can’t exactly pinpoint each stage of recovery but somehow I’ve been healed!
I’ve never commented on your blog before even though I visit it frequently.
As a SoCal Korean American Christian with a disordered eating past, I identify with so many of your stories! I love your blog. Your weekend ED series have helped me process what happened in my past. Thank you so much! Can’t wait for your next post 
oh god Sophia. Fuck Anorexia is right, as is Fuck all other forms of self-destruction and self-hatred. thank you for being brave enough to post this. i know that if i were you, writing this alone would make me enough to sort of re-hate myself, and cloud myself in shame… you’re brave! to face the past!
Love this post. Hate anorexia and any other actions associated with self-hatred. And love you Sophia. Seriously, you are my inspiration for making creative dishes, eating, food porn, basically everything healthy related to food.
Congrats on being done!
You know, I’ve never personally experienced anorexia. That being said I think it says a lot about how far you’ve come, being able to verbalize the emotions behind your state of mind. (I’m kind of a big psychology dork)
Everyone goes through difficult things in their life… no matter how perfect they might seem from the outside. I think there’s something to be said about God isn’t magic. Sure, he could take away our pain or our sorrows and make everything easy. But it is through that pain, that sorrow that we can become stronger than before. can say this: I’m glad that you did get through this, that you did learn to take care of and even like yourself again. I’m glad you are sharing your story, as weird as it might feel sometimes. <3
Wowwww…bone chilling but incredibly post. Such an ugly illness- Fuck anorexia!
Damn.
When’s your book coming out girl
FUCK ANOREXIA!!! I’m glad you’re still alive and now in recovery!
Fuck ANorexia back to the hell-hole it came from. It’s such a relief knowing you came out the other end of this!
Anorexia is numbing and isolating. It’s a selfish monster that wants us for itself, it isolates us from everything we love. It’s like a jealous, abusive boyfriend. I was actually realizing how isolated I feel as well, how removed and distant I feel from my loved ones. I understand where it comes from: I need to sneak around to please the disorder, which makes me evasive, cold… different.
Health reunites us with God, family and ourselves. We are blessed with love and with the people that stay to see us out of this nightmare.
Thank you for being so open Sophia. I think it’s great that you’re writing this series, it must be helping a lot of people. I went through a really similar experience when I was 17. I was so out of control with my ED and self harm that my mum told me to leave – but because I was under 18 she had to sign an estrangement letter before I could get any help finding a house or looking for work, and I didn’t have any friends to stay with (or any friends at all, in fact), so I ended up just hiding in my bedroom for the next six months. Whenever I have been really deeply entrenched in my eating disorder I have been at my most lonely socially and literally, but I never felt it, because I was just numb. It was only when I started to recover that I felt it, and that pain usually sent me straight back into my self destructive behaviours. No wonder it takes people so long to recover :/
I am so glad that your life today is so far from where it was four years ago
you seem like a lovely person, and you deserve more than fucking anorexia.
I never actually moved out when I was going through the same things, but I do remember being so mad and feeling so out of control that I threatened to pack my things and go live in my car! I felt like I had no one to turn to. And really I also just felt like a huge burden on my mom and the rest of my family. I wanted to get out, so that they would never have to think about me or worry about me again. Looking back, I’m almost glad I had no close friends then that I could have asked to stay with. Because I’m sure I would have done the very same thing! But I was pretty much alone in the world, so….the car it was! Haha! That would have been a story to tell, ey?!
Wow. Even though I don’t have anything to add to this – it’s quite a powerful and tongue-silencing piece of writing – I wanted to leave a comment to show my appreciation. But I am glad things changed, and that you aren’t still in that basement apartment consumed with bitterness and the disorder.
I really think that with this series you are showing that yes, things can get so awful, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. Things can be turned around: people can fight back and survive.
You are magnificent.
amen to all that! unless we’re literally DEAD, nothing is ever too late.
Ouch. Self hate is something I suppose everyone experiences from time to time, but you’ve certainly been through hell with it. Very powerful story.
Thank you so, so much for sharing this! I believe this is very important, because an eating disorders never just affects the one who has it, but all the social surrounding and especially the family as well. I’m happy I’ve never broken (even temporarily) with my parents because of it, but I’ve had some trouble as well – mostly because my mom got breast cancer, and it came back 5 years afterwards again. She once mentioned that I was she reason she got it because my ED put such terrible stress on her. I think this is true (it may not be the only reaon, but I know that my mom tends to get seriously ill when she has terrible stress like that. She once had a seriously ear infection that almost made her lose her hearing and confined her to her bed for several weeks, and a few months ago she had several hearing losses due to the long conflict between me and my dad – not a ED related, but I believe this conflict plays a role in why I got an ED), and I’ve lived with that feeling of terrible guilt for many years and still do. I felt I could never let my mom know how low I actually was because I didn’t want anything to happen to her.
I’m so happy you’ve managed the turn and found back to God, your family, and health, Sophia!
Fuck anorexia is seriously right! I think the worse thing that ever happened between me and my parents was when my father added olive oil to some pesto I was making and I went absolutely insanely crazy. I screamed around the house. For. Hours. I think my parents had absolutely no idea what to do with me. They didn’t throw me out but I think it was one of the first times they really realized just how much of a mental battle this was.
fuck anorexia and all her skinny little friends. i know exactly how you felt; when i was released from a long-term facility, my father had promised me that i could stay with him (since he instigated a huge fight between my mother and i, and she told me i was not longer welcome at home). well, as soon as i came home, he informed me that i wasn’t welcome THERE either, so i had to do some serious scrambling to find a place to stay. this happened again about a year later, when i had to leave the apartment where i had lived alone due to the fact that i was so sick i couldn’t really walk– fortunately, my boyfriend’s family took me in despite the fact that i was obviously very seriously ill. i am grateful to them to this very day, even though he and i are no longer dating. it is amazing how kind people can be, even when the world seems like such a hostile place– proof positive, perhaps, that god is still looking out for us even when it feels as though we have been abandoned.
i think it is important to remember, especially for those of us who are still in the midst of the throes of recovery, that things happen for a reason. we might not understand what that reason is, exactly, but our ordeals will make us stronger, wiser, kinder people… if we can survive them.
Wow, Sophia, this is incredible. I have been reading all of your ED Series posts with such amazement and admiration…I can’t believe all that you have gone through and yet now you are so obviously healthy and happy. I am so glad for your recovery…both in your health and in your relationship with your parents.
I have never experienced ED in any form, so this has been a real education for me. I never realized there was so much hiding beneath the surface of someone dealing with ED. People find it so easy to dismiss them as merely vain, spoiled control freaks who just want attention, when clearly this is NOT what is going on!
Thank you so much for sharing this personal story with us. I hope it helps you in your continued health as much as it has helped your readers understand how horrible ED really is.
My goodness!!
What I want to express is that HE is the best reason I have found NOT to have an eating disorder!!
When I think about all the actions of my life in the terms of “does this glorify God?” or “How does He feel about this?” restricting and over-exercising (as with over-eating and not exercising, the virtue of temperance again) are horrible sins that promote pride and destroy the temple that He wants me to be. Now, I try to check in with myself, “am I doing this run because it brings me closer to God? (and I recently have found that it can be a very spiritual time, praise him!) Or because He wants me to be healthy and care for my body? Or so I can eat more, thus abusing the food and exercise He has given me and not trusting Him to take care of me?”
Same with food. I know He wants me to eat healthy, fresh food, and I think that enjoying simple and delicious food is the best way for me to appreciate His gift of food, but He gave us ice cream, too.
So glad you’re at peace with your family.
Best,
Caroline
I am so floored every week how much of your story you share and how open you are – it’s amazing. I am so proud of you for saying fuck anorexia and becoming the person you were intended to be, without anorexia. You. rock.
That must have been such a hard and tragic time for both you and your parents
I am so glad for you that this sad time in your life is behind you and that you have so much positivity in your world now.
EFFF ANOREXIA!! (I just cannot write the f-word, sorry!!)…great post, per usual
I think it’s entirely healthy to have a really open relationship with your parents!!
Fuck anorexia. Fuck eating disorders. Yeah…that’s pretty much it.
I’m so glad you made it out of that.
Fuck Anorexia, media that celebrates skinny and berates anyone with any type of shape other than skeletal, unflattering mirrors, diet bars/shakes and the mean thoughts we think about ourselves.
You are beautiful and awesome.
Fuck Anorexia! That’s so horrible you had to go through that. Glad you’re still with us.
Just think that your painful experience of being an Anorexia victim had make you grow stronger, okay?
Bruno Mars said it right, you’re amazing just the way you are.
It had to be terrible for you.
I cannot imagine living without talking to my parents.
I do not have ED, but whenever I go through hard times, My parents’ support is essential to me.
Brave you are!
i have never left a comment before but i’ve been a reader of your blog for a long time. i don’t have an eating disorder and i’m not religious and you couldn’t pay me to eat spam – but i really love reading you. the serial ED posts are such a compelling read, especially knowing (in a sense) that they’re moving to an eventual triumph. memoir writing is a hard thing to pull off if the reader doesn’t care about the writer – what a neat thing to look around here and see how loved you are.
I really think you should try to get this series published in a book, you write so well !
You are a success story girl! I think it is great that you are able to so be so open and honest with your experience. There are so many that will never be able to verbalize it nor see the impact it has on themselves and everyone around them. You rock!!
Anorexia is Evil.
I think Faith might be the one thing it never took from me, though it did distance me/does distance me from God I am never mad at him.
I will echoe everyone’s relief that this story ends well.
FUCK ANOREXIA!!!