ZEB WALLACE
My Journey
Battling an Eating Disorder
2. Where it all began...
I’ve tried to figure out exactly when all of this started but it has been really hard to pinpoint. To be honest, this has been the hardest part to write about because it is still a bit fuzzy to me. As I move through my recovery, though, my understanding of all of this continues to evolve.
Many times, eating disorders are the result of untreated trauma. But I have never experienced trauma, or so I thought. I always imagined trauma as witnessing some horrific event or some near death experience; both of which have not happened to me, fortunately. But five days before Christmas when I was eight years old, our house was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. We lost everything. After speaking to several professionals in the mental health field, I have come to understand now that this was in fact a Level I trauma experience.
Not everyone who loses their home develops eating disorders, though. My sisters went through the exact same thing, as did my parents. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for my parents trying to deal with this loss. But my sisters and my parents didn't develop eating disorders. So why did I? Obviously there are multiple factors that lead to an eating disorder and many pieces have to come together for it to manifest in any one person. Everyone deals with trauma differently - two people may go through the same disaster but come out of it with completely different experiences.
We also know that some people develop eating disorders because they feel so many things in their lives are out of control. The one thing they can control is their body. After the fire, it took us a long time to get our house rebuilt. So for a very long time I felt unsettled, like things were incomplete and in limbo. That feeling of loss at such a young age and the slow pace of recovery as I grew older, both of which were outside of my control, may have led to my need to have something that I felt I had complete control over. My body was one thing I could control.
How did I get to that point, though? Why did I feel like I needed to control my body in that way? To be honest, I'm not really sure. But I do remember when I was in middle school a friend looked over at me, pointed at my stomach, and said in disgust, "what is that?" I guess I had a bit of a belly and that comment made me feel so ashamed. In a strange way, I felt like I had let my friend down. I don’t think that comment alone caused my eating disorder, but it was at that point that I began to associate any weight gain to be a bad thing. I assumed that everyone would look at me in disgust and think how pathetic I was if I gained weight. I don’t recall changing eating habits or exercise habits at that time, but it was something that was on my mind more and more from then on.
I eventually hit my growth spurt and slimmed up when I got to high school. I remember people telling me that when I went off to college, I would gain the “Freshman 15,” but I was determined not to let that happen. I would hear people talk about others and say things like; “Wow, they’ve really let themselves go!” Further confirmation of how I felt others would see me if I gained weight. I never wanted anyone to be able to say that about me. I never wanted anyone to have any negative thoughts about me or to be disappointed in me. Being slim became my identity, what people expected of me, and I fought hard not to let them down. Losing our house and the slow recovery may have been out of my control, but again, my body was something I could control. In a weird way, I thought that by controlling my weight, I could ensure that people would think well of me.
So I went off to college with this in mind. I lived on campus and because of that, I had to have a meal plan. I got the smallest plan possible, which was five meals a week. That meant I would only eat once a day during the week. I started to really watch what I ate by cutting out fats and choosing the lowest calorie options whenever I could. I would spend the longest time in the grocery store looking at labels. My family thought I was just trying to be healthy, which was somewhat true. They soon began to recognize that I was a ‘picky’ eater. If we were going to eat out somewhere, they would look at me and ask, “Can you get something there?” I was always embarrassed by that, but at the same time, I would often feel like there was nothing healthy enough for me at a lot of places. To cover up my true intentions, I would say something like, “I just don’t like burgers,” or “I don’t like fried food…it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
I also realized that if I wanted to eat more than once a day, I would need to exercise more. So I made sure that I was outside as much as possible walking and hiking, and eventually, I started to run. Exercising gave me permission to eat.
Whenever this started and why may still be unclear, but I do know that it was not just one thing that caused this. All the pieces came together at a particular time in my life when perhaps I was the most vulnerable. I do believe the fire was likely a big part of it and may well be the source of all of this. Whatever the reason, though, I know that no one is to blame - it's no one's fault. It is just one of those things that happened.
Many times, eating disorders are the result of untreated trauma. But I have never experienced trauma, or so I thought. I always imagined trauma as witnessing some horrific event or some near death experience; both of which have not happened to me, fortunately. But five days before Christmas when I was eight years old, our house was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. We lost everything. After speaking to several professionals in the mental health field, I have come to understand now that this was in fact a Level I trauma experience.
Not everyone who loses their home develops eating disorders, though. My sisters went through the exact same thing, as did my parents. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for my parents trying to deal with this loss. But my sisters and my parents didn't develop eating disorders. So why did I? Obviously there are multiple factors that lead to an eating disorder and many pieces have to come together for it to manifest in any one person. Everyone deals with trauma differently - two people may go through the same disaster but come out of it with completely different experiences.
We also know that some people develop eating disorders because they feel so many things in their lives are out of control. The one thing they can control is their body. After the fire, it took us a long time to get our house rebuilt. So for a very long time I felt unsettled, like things were incomplete and in limbo. That feeling of loss at such a young age and the slow pace of recovery as I grew older, both of which were outside of my control, may have led to my need to have something that I felt I had complete control over. My body was one thing I could control.
How did I get to that point, though? Why did I feel like I needed to control my body in that way? To be honest, I'm not really sure. But I do remember when I was in middle school a friend looked over at me, pointed at my stomach, and said in disgust, "what is that?" I guess I had a bit of a belly and that comment made me feel so ashamed. In a strange way, I felt like I had let my friend down. I don’t think that comment alone caused my eating disorder, but it was at that point that I began to associate any weight gain to be a bad thing. I assumed that everyone would look at me in disgust and think how pathetic I was if I gained weight. I don’t recall changing eating habits or exercise habits at that time, but it was something that was on my mind more and more from then on.
I eventually hit my growth spurt and slimmed up when I got to high school. I remember people telling me that when I went off to college, I would gain the “Freshman 15,” but I was determined not to let that happen. I would hear people talk about others and say things like; “Wow, they’ve really let themselves go!” Further confirmation of how I felt others would see me if I gained weight. I never wanted anyone to be able to say that about me. I never wanted anyone to have any negative thoughts about me or to be disappointed in me. Being slim became my identity, what people expected of me, and I fought hard not to let them down. Losing our house and the slow recovery may have been out of my control, but again, my body was something I could control. In a weird way, I thought that by controlling my weight, I could ensure that people would think well of me.
So I went off to college with this in mind. I lived on campus and because of that, I had to have a meal plan. I got the smallest plan possible, which was five meals a week. That meant I would only eat once a day during the week. I started to really watch what I ate by cutting out fats and choosing the lowest calorie options whenever I could. I would spend the longest time in the grocery store looking at labels. My family thought I was just trying to be healthy, which was somewhat true. They soon began to recognize that I was a ‘picky’ eater. If we were going to eat out somewhere, they would look at me and ask, “Can you get something there?” I was always embarrassed by that, but at the same time, I would often feel like there was nothing healthy enough for me at a lot of places. To cover up my true intentions, I would say something like, “I just don’t like burgers,” or “I don’t like fried food…it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
I also realized that if I wanted to eat more than once a day, I would need to exercise more. So I made sure that I was outside as much as possible walking and hiking, and eventually, I started to run. Exercising gave me permission to eat.
Whenever this started and why may still be unclear, but I do know that it was not just one thing that caused this. All the pieces came together at a particular time in my life when perhaps I was the most vulnerable. I do believe the fire was likely a big part of it and may well be the source of all of this. Whatever the reason, though, I know that no one is to blame - it's no one's fault. It is just one of those things that happened.
Copyright © 2023