Active anorexics cannot care about the dangers of their eating disorder

Not caring is part of the eating disorder.

Active anorexics do NOT think they’re sick. They have an extremely screwed up perception of their body.

Anorexia shuts off the part of the brain that makes them care.

That’s why people with active anorexia do not think they have a problem.

There is a fine line between knowing you have an eating disorder and being open to receiving help.

I experienced something that scared me into seeking recovery — really had me like, “Oh, my gosh, I could DIE from this.”

That’s big coming from someone who used to eat Reese’s peanut butter cups knowing full well she is allergic, because she didn’t really care.

Like, there was no explicit suicidal ideation happening; it was more/less “well, life is about being skinny, and if I’m not, then how can it be worth living?”

You cannot make anyone care about something they don’t care about.

Think of eating disorders as types of cults. Anorexia is its own cult. Like Amish communities, there are subtypes of anorexia cults.

Until something happens to someone struggling with anorexia personally — or someone they know — they’re probably going to think they’re special.

Anorexics think they’re unicorns.

I’m not claiming to speak for everyone experiencing anorexia; I’m laying this out as clearly and literally as I can because I need people who don’t experience this to understand.

If you don’t, you’re missing a key piece of the puzzle:

Anorexia is a MENTAL disorder with PHYSICAL consequences that can lead to death.

My mother’s adoptive side of the family was right when they said something was mentally wrong with me — except it’s an eating disorder, not a mood one.

Being hungry affects my moods. When my body is not starved, my moods are fine. Amazing that!

Eating disorders are mental disorders with physical consequences that can be fatal.

My mother has a mental disorder that causes her to love or hate you, never anything in between. Something is either good or bad, never anything in between. Dichotomous thinking.

In her eyes, I was either good or bad. I could never be in the middle of that. I have no idea if she loved me because she was only kind to me when I did what she wanted, gave her gifts or showered her with compliments about how she was better than so-and-so.

I grew up with her telling me she was the way she was because of her mental disorder, so I attribute her behavior to her mental disorder.

As an adult, I recognize which symptoms were due to her mental disorder versus which ones were her character. The rest, I don’t care.

I’m a huge proponent of neurodiversity.

However, eating disorders are not part of neurodiversity, for they are mental illnesses.

There is overlap with neurodiversity, meaning neurodivergent people may have eating disorders. I’m autistic, and I’ve anorexia!

Understanding the mental disorder aspect is critical. What anorexia does to the brain is akin to my mother’s rigid, dichotomous thinking.

You cannot make anyone do anything.

In the early 2000s was a reality show like TLC’s My Strange Addiction featuring multiple stereotypically thin girls — preteens, teens and younger — featuring parents trying to get their kids to eat and care.

The scene I remember best is a family trip to a restaurant. The mother is begging her youngest daughter to eat this large, juicy cheeseburger with fries and a shake.

That is not how recovery goes.

I had days where I was like, “Okay, I need a lot of energy now,” and purposely sought out high-calorie foods. But they made me feel even worse. I had even more gastrointestinal issues over that.

Anorexia recovery is not like TV. No eating disorder recovery is and ever will be.

Using fear can cause more harm

Recovery is also not linear. Damage can show up even after a person seemingly recovered because the damage has already been done.

Eating disorder treatment needs to be a safe space. Support systems full of anxious people aren’t going to help.

I have generalized anxiety worsened by undereating. My family’s anxiety seems a lot worse than mine, or maybe they project their anxiety onto me for me to compensate for.

But I have my own ish to work through. I’m responsible for my own anxiety.

None of my relatives are living in my body.

At 26, I researched on my own per a relative’s prodding what dangers I might have to deal with. I thought, “What’s the point in starting now if all of this damage has already been done?”

I didn’t begin eating disorder recovery until I was about 27-28 because of my findings, because genuinely WHAT was the point?

I’m nearing 35 years old now. Some of my health issues are probably the result of my developing an eating disorder in sixth grade.

It’s terrifying. I’m basically collecting specialists like Pokémon and thinking about how I want to spend my days by this time next year.

All while being knee-deep in another round of professional treatment.

Whether my current health issues are reversible with anorexia treatment, if related, is unknown.

What keeps me going is my cat, friends and wanting to live.

I learned to stuff the fear of the dangers down a long time ago. Because if I hadn’t, I never would have been open to recovery. I probably would have died by now.

I’m not saying this to scare anyone or to say I was suicidal and wanted to die.

When you care about someone and know they’re actively harming themselves, you might accidentally project your anxiety onto them and make it worse.

Or if you generally have untreated anxiety, you could unknowingly project your anxiety onto a person who isn’t responsible for it.

You cannot be more afraid of what a loved one’s eating disorder can do to them than the damage that can happen.

That’s what it is: Fearing the dangers of the eating disorder and sharing those dangers, because how could someone not be afraid?!

(Re)lapses are going to happen. People with eating disorders need to know that if they do (re)lapse, they’re not going to be perceived as a failure for it.

The realization that you have (re)lapsed is more than enough…and it’s SO MUCH to go through recovery all over again.

The eating disorder uses fear-mongering to survive.

Supportive messaging lays out what is happening and how to keep the person safe, e.g. “Here’s what is happening in your body and how we can keep you safe.”

Caring starts once the person’s thoughts are louder

You can have an eating disorder and be vaguely aware you have one, but not think you’re sick.

Caring doesn’t happen as long as that eating disorder is controlling your thoughts and actions. Because you can be hungry, but stay in place and push through that hunger if the eating disorder wants you to.

The eating disorder wants to survive; it doesn’t want to drown out.

I don’t know how to describe how or when it happens; everyone is different.

Therapy, support and education is what helps

There is no escaping it.

I didn’t have a support system my first round of professional treatment, so I went all in on my own and bit back when relatives questioned my recovery strategies.

They chose not to learn about disordered eating alongside me and doubled down on similar behaviors, so I tuned them out.

This is what I did and is not what everyone must do. My experience is not a common one…but it is still mine, so I’m sharing it. 💖