A recent article, “Anorexia, the Impossible Subject” by Alice Gregory, published in The New Yorker has made me reconsider the way we speak and write about eating disorders. In response to Kelsey Osgood’s newly-published book, How to Disappear Completely: On Modern Anorexia”, Alice Gregory builds on the argument that much of contemporary literature about anorexia paradoxically glamourizes the disease rather than exposing its dark and deadly nature. Many “pseudo-redemptive” memoirs (written in the past tense by “those who see themselves as recovered”) give extensive details that effectively teach readers how to “become” anorexic; Osgood explains that she herself “contracted” the disease by copying the habits described in such books. These memoirs, as well as other texts that focus on eating disorders (including TV shows like Gossip Girl, Degrassi, Pretty Little Liars and movies such as Cruel Intentions, Black Swan, etc) use lofty language and poetic elaboration that, perhaps inadvertently, turn the truly deadly illness into a twisted sort of achievement or elevated status, a kind of martyrdom to which self-driven readers may aspire. “Unlike other kinds of addictions, anorexia disguises itself as virtue,” Gregory writes. Osgood counteracts this trend by omitting details such as body weight, caloric figures, and so on from her description of how ill she became, but according to Gregory, she still manages to romanticize the disease.

Also in her article, Gregory strives to convey the untenable pathology of an anorexic through definitions and examples from other equally brilliant authors. In her illustration of anorexia as a perverse and perplexing addiction, she shows how “the conflicted way in which we talk about the disease” mirrors the mentality behind the illness itself, in that the anorexic’s plight is both harshly self-abusive and sadistically gratifying as she celebrates the emaciation that proves she is in control; similarly, while the discourse around anorexia is critical and severe, the language is celebratory and hubristic. This contradiction is unparalleled among other sorts of addicts, as is the recollection of glee experienced by an anorexic as she watches her body waste away. Readers are drawn to this “strange euphoria” rather than repulsed by details of bizarre behaviours and bodily disintegration. “Any writing about anorexia makes it more interesting than it really is—even a book that sets out to condemn the very act,” Gregory writes.

“We make anorexia desirable by connecting it to brilliants and also by talking about it poetically, by making it something that enhances a person’s aura, makes them more glamorous,” Osgood explains in her book. Herein lies the trouble: the authors who pen these memoirs are the artistic, creative intellectuals that so many anorexics truly are, so their writing is naturally poetic and alluring. As Gregory puts it, ““not wanting to connect your illness to your own brilliance is nearly impossible if you also want to be a precise, smart, and beautiful writer”. Her solution is to paint not a picture of dogged defiance and self-destructive drama but one of “profoundly boring” tautology; to describe not the incidents of forced-feeding or interventions but the tedious monotony of running laps and calorie counting. Perhaps the subsequent text wouldn’t make the best-seller list, but at least it would bring aspiring readers back down to earth.

I can most certainly attest to the dull monotony of a life as a“slowly suicidal obsessive who avoids other people and expends ninety-five per cent of [my] mental energy counting the calories in green vegetables”, although at the time it was anything but boring - it was a way of life, of escaping the intolerable pain of self-hate. The word “colourless” seems to me a more fitting one, since my anorexic life of isolation and obsession was not bereft not of incident but of vibrancy and joy. In any case, I believe the conversation about anorexia, “impossible” though it may seem, is imperative to its prevention and resolution. Perhaps we need to focus less on the “drama” and more on the way this disease can decimate an entire life long before its victim truly feels self-satisfied; on the way it ravishes the body to an often irreparable extent; on how the “aura” that surrounds its victim plunges everyone around her into joyless terror and pain. Perhaps we need to relate not the self-destructive spiral of disintegration but the exhausting effort of recovery, of slogging through one meal at a time against the will of a merciless inner demon. Perhaps if we can show how much there is to lose, not what twisted (and delusional) “gains” can be made from a life with anorexia, the subject would be better understood… and no longer “impossible.”

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Alison is a regular contributor to The Looking Glass’ blog, is an eating disorders survivor and is an inspiration to those around her.

Surviving life with, or in recovery from, an eating disorder is difficult even at the best of times. And for me, Christmas was the best of times! But anorexia cast a heavy shadow over the holidays for both me and my family, as the fear of all that decadent food and overbearing company eclipsed the traditional merriment. The joy of cookie swaps, Christmas cake magic, eggnog, and candy canes was no more. My waif-like presence drained the warmth from family gatherings. I could no longer summon any of my old exuberance at parties, tree-trimmings, sleigh rides, or pageants. My family tip-toed around me in fear of upsetting my fragile emotional state.

Even in the throes of my disease, I longed for the good old days when Christmas was a magical time of joy and lightheartedness. The season’s brightness was yet another thing my disease had robbed from me - and my case is not at all unique: the holidays are immensely challenging for many of those who struggle with an eating disorder. But as I’ve recovered, I’ve discovered a few tricks to retaining some of that holiday cheer, in spite of my chronic illness. While I admit that nothing can chase away those eating disordered thoughts entirely, there are a few ways to minimize the impact they have on holiday cheer. Today, I’m grateful that I can fully enjoy the whole Christmas season - even the sweets and treats - without losing out to anorexia.

This is a gift worth sharing - so for each of the Twelve Days of Christmas, we’ll be posting a new tip on surviving (even enjoying!) the holidays with an eating disorder on the Looking Glass' Facebook page. ‘Like’ us and follow along, beginning December 12th, and see how we’re keeping our holidays merry and bright.

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Alison is a regular contributor to The Looking Glass’ blog, is an eating disorders survivor and is an inspiration to those around her.

When you or someone you love has an eating disorder, food-centric holidays like Hanukkah, Thanksgiving and Christmas pose a particular challenge. The affected individual is likely to experience significantly greater stress knowing he or she will be expected to spend time with family and friends enjoying meals and holiday treats.

Through our work at the Looking Glass Foundation, we have developed several tips to help you enjoy the holiday season:

1) Taking care of yourself tops the list! Get enough rest, plan things you enjoy, stay close to your support system, and know your limits. The holidays can present us with opportunities to attend multiple gatherings in a week and it can be overwhelming, even for those without eating disorders. Journaling can be a good way to help you process feelings of isolation and anxiety and stay centered.

2) Plan ahead, make the challenges smaller, and take small steps. Isolating yourself to avoid food triggers can be tempting but it keeps you from growing and gaining confidence. You may want to host your own smaller gathering with foods you feel comfortable around rather than attend a big party somewhere else. You could plan to enjoy a serving of something you love but would not normally eat. You’ll know whether a step is right if it’s more appealing than worrying.

3) Divert your attention. There are so many ways to make the holiday season memorable. Wrapping presents, using your creativity to make a gift, lining up the holiday music, doing a favour for an elderly neighbour, and volunteering are ways to remember that gratitude is healing and at the heart of our holidays.

4) Know who to call if you find yourself in the occasional crisis. You may have moments when you feel particularly alone with your inner struggle. If you have a close friend or relative who understands, make a plan to be in touch. It can be as simple as a morning walk together, a phone call, email or texting for the understanding and encouragement you need. Or you can keep in touch with your therapist or join an online support group if needed. If you’re struggling and don’t know where to turn, contact the Looking Glass Foundation for Eating Disorders here for compassionate support and guidance.

Remember, you are not alone. Many others are facing eating disorders, and as you move forward with your own recovery, you are demonstrating to others that they, too, will succeed.

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Trixie Hennessey, MSW, RSW, is our wonderful, ultra talented Program Coordinator at The Woodstone Residence. To learn more about the transformational work being done at the Woodstone Residence, click here.

Eating disorders are a mental illness with physical consequences. If your child has an eating disorder and has been admitted at a residential treatment facility, chances are that you are already extremely worried (and have undoubtedly already spent a lot of time researching treatment solutions and after-care support options).

Dealing with Media Influences, Meal Times and Mood Disorders 

If your child is dealing with an eating disorder, there may be some long-standing issues that you will have to deal with as a family. Here are some of the challenges that you might face:

• Media influences: The American media is obsessed with looks and being thin – this puts a lot of pressure on young people to feel they fit into the idea of what “beautiful” means to the media (i.e. being thin). Make sure you focus on their feelings, health and relationships. Do not make any negative comments regarding their image.
• Meal times: Avoid power struggles over food. While this doesn’t mean you can turn a blind eye to any disordered eating habits, it does mean that you need to start giving your child control of what they eat. If they have successfully completed a program at a residential treatment facility, give them time to adjust and become comfortable with meal times at home again.
• Mood disorders: Comorbid disorders like depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety can complicate and impede eating disorders. Make sure that your child has the right eating disorder support (including healthcare professionals, counsellors and support groups) so that any other type of mood disorders can be addressed.

Information for Parents - How to Deal with Media Influences, Coping with Meal Times, Coping with Depression, Anxiety and Self-Esteem

It’s vital that you keep an eye on your child’s progress. Not only can they be very susceptible to criticism, the media and mood disorders, they can also feel isolated and alone. Here are a few tips:

• Avoid threats and scare tactics: Never undermine the power of an eating disorder by offering a simple solution like “Just eat and everything will be fine!” Do not threaten your child or add to the emotional stress that they may already be experiences.
• Promote self-esteem: Encourage and complement your child on things that do not relate to his or her body image.
• Remember that it’s not your (or your child’s fault): Stay attuned with your child’s progress and remember that nobody wants to have an eating disorder.

Stay connected to their support group and make sure you are able to give them access to the psychological and physical specialists that they need in order to implementing lasting, positive changes in their lives.

Whenever I share my story as a recovering anorexic - whether it’s in front of a high school class, through my writing, or one-on-one, the question that everyone asks is, “How did you recover?” And that really is THE question, isn’t it?

Anorexia is, at best, ambiguous in nature. Without any definite cause or simple diagnosis, anorexia and other eating disorders have baffled medical practitioners, psychologists, parents, and even victims [patients] themselves as they search for answers and keys to recovery. Just when the miracle formula appears, a new, even more insidious pathology emerges, like an interminably elusive virus. I don’t mean to imply that the treatments available are futile; on the contrary, they have provided invaluable insight and support in my years of recovery. For that, I am profoundly grateful.

However, it wasn’t in the ward of a hospital, on the couch of a therapist, at the bottom of prescription medication, or even in ongoing outpatient treatment that I found my panacea at last.

It wasn’t until I had been hospitalized five times, seen countless counsellors and psychologists, switched between medication and alternative healing methods, and fell short time and time again that I really began to lose hope and search elsewhere. It was in that state of near helplessness that I found the number one thing that helped me recover - and continues to move me forward to this day.

That “miracle cure” turned out to be nothing more than the support and connection with others who had been just as baffled by their eating disorders as I, had yet found freedom from their disease, and were willing to share their story with me. Once united with those who truly knew my insanity and the sickness that ruled my life because they too had suffered its wrath, I realized I was not alone or unlovable. The women who so warmly welcomed me into their fold without any trace of judgment had clearly experienced the darkest side of my disease, and yet they were now healthy and happy, with lives full of friends, family, careers, and aspirations. They had what I wanted. They told me that I could have it too, if I did as they had done.

That was the day I first walked into the rooms of Anorexics and Bulimics Anonymous (ABA), a twelve-step fellowship modeled after Alcoholics Anonymous whose only requirement for membership is a desire to stop unhealthy eating practices. As a chronic anorexic of the hopeless variety, I fit right in. As I attended meetings, I came to realize that over my years of treatment, I had been struggling to “fix” my disease by emulating those who had never shared my experience, when what I really needed was a mentor who had found recovery and was willing to show me how. And that’s exactly what ABA has given me - an entire fellowship of people who share in a solution that works.

It’s true that not everyone relates to the twelve-step approach, and I’ve seen many people recover through other means. But one thing rings true to recovery across the board: no one can do it alone. Eating disorders are diseases of isolation, so it stands to reason that their cure be rooted in companionship and support. By connecting with like-minded individuals through mutual desire for recovery - whether it be in the rooms of ABA or in other healing circles, by volunteering at the Looking Glass Foundation’s Summer Camps or staying in touch with friends after treatment - I believe a person truly can recover from an eating disorder. The key lies in relating to one another and a willingness to get well. To this day, it’s the number one thing that keeps me in recovery.

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Alison is a regular contributor to The Looking Glass’ blog, is an eating disorders survivor and is an inspiration to those around her.