Stop Telling People to “Go Eat Something”

I fought with myself hard over writing this, because some might point out that as someone who is openly in relapse of eating disorder I probably aren’t the best to talk. But I want to get a point across, and hopefully some people will hear it.

We need to stop telling skinny people to “go eat something” and calling them “anorexic”.

Anorexia does not equal skinny. 

Skinny does not equal anorexic.

Full stop.

Telling skinny people to quote “eat something” isn’t a show of genuine concern, it is a show of ignorance and prejudice. An assumption that skinny is unhealthy, unnatural, unreal. It helps no one.

For certain it doesn’t help those actually struggling with eating disorder to differentiate their worth from their weight or their deserving of putting fuel into their bodies. 

So why do people keep feeling justified to say it to people?

As a relapsed anorexic, I’m not skinny. Skinny has nothing to do with my illness, control and self-esteem have everything to do with my illness. 

Skinny people exist, in the same way plus sized people exist. Skinny people can be perfectly healthy, just like overweight people can be perfectly healthy.

All too often the body positive movement allows the insinuation that skinny people are the figment of photoshopped magazine covers and starving models. Far too often.

No body type is any more or less real; more or less valid; more or less healthy. 

If you are genuinely concerned about someone having an eating disorder then visit B-Eat (UK) or NEDA (US). Educate yourself, recognise the real signs (wearing baggy clothes, increased sensitivity to cold, changes in breathe smell, fuzzy tongue, etc. – all of which go far beyond weight and size). Be supportive, don’t tell someone to “eat a hamburger”, tell them they’re beautiful no matter what. People with eating disorders know that eating something is a healthy and normal thing to do, we don’t need the reminder. What we don’t see in our illness is that we are beautiful and loved no matter what. That’s what we need reminding of.

What Having (Clinical) Depression and Anxiety (Disorder) is REALLY Like

I haven’t posted since Easter (like 2 months ago), and I’ve felt I needed to but I wasn’t sure what I really wanted to say or what I felt safe to say.

Going into this blog I never experienced it to be easy. I was mute for 15 years (all of my childhood). Putting my words, even just written words, out in the public forum was never going to be the safest thing. Yet I knew I wanted to be an open book in the off chance my own story helped a single person who is struggling with mental illness. And I’ve been pleasantly surprised, I’ve had amazing feedback from my posts and have been able to share my story in national media. But there are still many times when it feels too unsafe to post what I want to say on here. More because of my anxiety disorder (and the irrational thinking it creates), but also because I’ve talked to people about such things in real life and not had a supportive and safe experience of it (one of many reasons I was mute most of my life).

Anyway, after mulling over whether to say anything at all as well as what overall message I want this blog to have, I came to the conclusion that regardless of what people reading this think I need to feel capable of being real and communicating what’s going on inside my head. If I don’t have that capability then it’s majorly unhealthy and harmful for me.

This post isn’t what I was planning to write, it was a reaction to something currently affecting me. The title draws on the many articles from magazines and social media that claim to give insight into the reality of “depression” and “anxiety”, but rarely depict the true illnesses and instead suggest that everybody who experiences some periods of sadness or worry can be lumped under those two medical labels. Those articles really bother me. Not because I think my experience of mental illness is the only true one, I don’t. But I do find they take away the severity, seriousness, and life limiting affect that the medically recognised diagnoses of depression and anxiety. 

Get this straight. All people have periods of sadness, but not all people are depressed. Depression is a medically recognised set diagnostic criteria, where a person experiences unreasonable amount negative emotion or numbness that is not necessarily linked with a negative life event – i.e. Clinical depression is not a response to a bad grade or relationship problem for example, although it heightens negative reactions to such events. 

All people will experience brief periods of worry or nervousness, but that doesn’t mean all people have anxiety. Anxiety is worry that is beyond that which is reasonable in a situation, or which continues to persist after the trigger has gone – i.e. Anxiety is not the same thing as worrying about exams or money or being nervous around people because worry is a reasonable response in those situations, but anxiety in those examples would be having panic attacks during or even at the expectation of such situations. Having an anxiety disorder may mean having panic attacks even without an obvious trigger, and feeling on edge every second of every day, to the point it prevents you from functioning in everyday tasks.

In real research figures; 4 in 10 people meet the recognised criteria for depression, while 1 in 4 have experienced panic attacks. In the age group with the highest rates of mental illness, 18-34 year olds, only 20% had negative mental health whilst 73% of people had average mental health (7% had above average or positive mental health).

I have had severe and persistent anxiety disorder since I was 5 years old. I grew up so anxious that I was physically unable to speak or communicate properly until I was 16. I will get panic attacks over simple things or even plain imagined things. I’m unable to work full time, or live independently without support. I will likely be on medication my entire life. 

Depression and anxiety aren’t labels we should be using as fashion statements. They aren’t cool, or glamorous. Truly they are ugly and life destroying, and given the choice I would not wish them on my worst enemy.

Recovery in Relapse: Mutually Exclusive?

So I’ve been thinking a lot about how we’re taught to view recovery and relapse as opposing ends, and we’re either in one or we’re in the other. But I’m wondering, are the two actually that mutually exclusive? Or can you be recovering even in relapse?

Like I’m just not at the point in my relapse where “normal” eating is going to happen, or where I’d be content at my current weight or even losing the weight slowly. But in terms of recovery I’m still working on the not hating myself, not living in the guilt and shame of my illness, even if I’m not at the point where physical recovery is going to happen yet. I’m still recovering even in the midst of relapse.

I’m not there yet, but one day I will be, and being able to allow recovery and relapse to coexist in the meantime will one day help me cross that line from one (relapse) to the other (full recovery). If I learn to love myself emotionally now I’ll be better placed to love myself physically later. 

Just a thought.
N.B. The featured pic is of my new tattoo (my second 😊), which is the Lovatics heart that fans made for Demi Lovato whilst she was in treatment 7 years ago. It symbolises recovery and above all the love I cannot give myself but I can still receive from those who love me.