emotional eating blog

The Night That I Hit Rock Bottom

The Night That I Hit Rock Bottom

Someone recently asked me what the lowest point of my eating disorder was. What was the final straw that made you change? I immediately knew what it was and was catapulted back to that moment. And now I'm going to share it with you.

I already talked in some detail about this here, but I think that a lot of people who are currently struggling with an eating disorder may find some comfort and hopefully inspiration in this part of the story.

At the time, I was doing an internship as a service staff in a hotel in London. I had just moved there three months ago, and even though I enjoyed discovering this new city, I absolutely hated my job.

Putting a compulsive eater into an environment where you are surrounded by readily available food 24/7 and get to secretly eat the leftover pralines at the end of the night is like putting an alcoholic into a bottle shop.

I dreaded going to work every morning and more often than not, would spontaneously call in sick because I just couldn't deal with the food confrontation. I would wake up every morning, promising myself that today would be different. Today would be the day where willpower would succeed and I wouldn't even dare to look at all the tempting food around me at work. I'd have a tiny little breakfast, like 1/2 a kiwi, and hope that it would sustain me throughout the day (it's so crazy when I think back to that now!)  Sometimes I managed to actually not eat anything for the entire shift, but on most days my willpower would eventually fail me and I would eat one praline, then two, then tree and so on. By the end of the shift I would feel so guilty about failing yet again that all I wanted to do was go home and eat some more. I lived on a busy main road in West London, and on my walk home from work I passed an endless amount of fast food restaurants that were open until late at night. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how that story ends...

My Story with an Eating Disorder - Part 2

My Story with an Eating Disorder - Part 2

For the first part of my story with an eating disorder, click here.

Fast forward half a year. I have now moved from Dubai to Switzerland and started uni there. Everything seems perfect on paper, but deep down I'm still struggling. In fact, I'm struggling more than ever. I am throwing up twice a day, the scale is my best friend and the mirror my worst nightmare. I know that food and negative body image are controlling every aspect of my life, but I feel too powerless to fight it.

During the first weeks of uni I met Phil, my boyfriend with whom I have been for almost five years now. Remember when I said that I was very sick yet functional at the same time? Well, I was so "functional" that I even managed to hide this side of me from the person closest to me. The shame of being locked into this lonely cycle of bizarre behaviour was driving me sheer crazy and I hated not being able to be honest to someone I cared about so much. I felt alone in a way that was terrifying and I felt like I was going to have obsessions and compulsions around food forever.

Every Monday morning I would promise to myself that this week would be better, but by that same evening all good intentions were out the window and I would give in to my drug of choice once again. Yet there were no empty alcohol bottles or used needles. The evidence of my dirty little secret was a pile of food wrappers around me.