Noel Ruby

ed (November 15, 2018)

This may be one of the hardest events I have ever had to do, but this needs to be discussed. The only reason I am posting is for benefitting others who are going through similar experiences. The need to write about the certain personal section of my life has come from recently interacting with someone about these issues. I do not want for anyone to experience the mental detriment I have for a number of years. In getting straight to the point, here it goes.

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This is the beginning of my eating disorder. It makes me cringe to call it this because it makes what I experienced actually real. The struggles have somewhat always been there since I can remember. At 6 years old, I remember being at a flea market-like store with my mother and my aunts. My mom asked if I wanted to wear a tank, but I said no because of my insecurity in showing my arms. This seems extreme but is a reality for many people. Then, the monumental beginning stage is imprinted on my mind. I can recall being my typical bored self watching Boy Meets World at 10 during the summer between 4th and 5th grade. I suddenly had an urge to weigh myself, and so I reached for my mother’s crusty, damaged one from the bathroom. In placing it on the carpeted floor, I stepped on it to find I landed in the triple digits. This makes sense, but at the time of discovery I was shocked. I planned to lose weight and become “healthy.” I did not have the slightest inclination of what healthy meant. My diet for that summer consisted of Lean Cuisine and Weight Watchers ice cream. The Chicken Parm is great along with the stir fry, but that is beside the point. I eat this way along with exercising on the Total Gym, which probably did not do much since I spent at max 5 minutes a day on the system, but I heard my dad once say that I did not eat enough at that time. After losing 20 lbs that summer, I remember a doctor saying that I should not lose more weight. He wasn’t the only one. I remember former teachers saying to me that I should not lose more weight either when I was in 6th grade. At this time, I did eat normally but craved the attention of not eating enough. I did want the attention and have a disorder which usually people do not think works but was my situation. 

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10th grade has hit, and I am now participating normally in sports. The exercise portion of my story finally is highlighted. I remember focusing on my thighs and wanting them to be smaller because I thought they were huge. Then, I also decided to focus on my stomach which became the main subject of my body dysmorphia. I later saw myself in a mirror and was disgusted with how I looked. Then, someone told me about doing more in exercising, so I followed that. The exercising became ritual, and if they were interrupted all hell would break loose. I remember crying at one instant for not being able to exercise on one day because I did not have enough time. Later that year, my mom interrupted a session by calling me, and I lashed out in a way that was uncharacteristic of me. Running became a regular part of my routine in high school no matter what. Whether humidity was at an all-time high or the weather was freezing cold. I even did it when company was coming over within no time. During this time was when restriction was more severe. Normally in puberty as a guy you are supposed to eat a ton, but I felt that I couldn't because I thought my metabolism was not ideal. There were times when guys on sports teams would comment on my eating habits and say that I had an eating disorder, but I always denied it thinking I did not. When in fact, I was in denial. Next, comes the most critical point. My freshman year. 

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Freshman year hit, and as natural for many coming to their first year of college, loneliness was more prevalent than ever before. It was a tough time which did not help the disorder at all. I had time to research about food 24/7 and be obsessed with it constantly in my head because of restricting than ever before. The restrictions were easier because of all food decisions falling on my lap. In eating, I considered it to be an accomplishment to eat little or be hungry. I don't think there was a moment during that year when I felt full. Honestly there could have been days where I would only have 700 calories, but usually I think it was between 900-1000. Exercise was also the most intense with trying to never miss a session on the subscription calendar. In missing exercise, I would have massive mood swings. I thought I had to be super thin and that my value as a human is comprised without looking a certain way. The goal was to have it all and be the best, or I would be a failure without worth. These were my thinking methods. Next, was bingeing. This was a taste not like in the following summer, but I would eat a ton at sometimes for "cheat days." After feeling that terrible, I would exercise intensely for a brief minute to feel not completely hating myself. 

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The summer after my freshman year reached another peak in terms of bingeing. If you are familiar with fear of eating in front of people, that was me and is still me. I would lounge around in the pantry, eating whatever I could find. This was when I let go and ate to the point of feeling sick. I didn't care because I was deprived for so long. There was a segment of time when I was full for 3 straight days. I gained 20 lbs and probably more. Whenever I discovered my weight would increase from constantly weighing myself, I would have fits of rage in my room where I would slam on the floor. Now I can't bring myself to go on the scale because of fear. I don't ever want to see a number correlated with how much I weigh. During this time, I was also at a stressful job and when that was over, I began to decrease in weight. Yet, in the wellness class after the summer, there was a session I had to participate where I had to be weighed, have my height taken, and have a recorded fat %. This for me was an utter nightmare. When I found out the hard data, I relapsed. I walked around hating myself with eating only a bowl of Raisin Bran and an apple afterwards. 

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I never went to a clinic. Partly because I did not want people to find out nor did I believe I had an eating disorder. What I had could be classified as EDNOS, since it combines aspects of anorexia, bulimia, and binge eating. But I did have a problem even if I thought it was not severe enough at the time. Like I said before, the main reason I chose to reveal my inner struggles was to show light for someone else. I want to prevent any pain that could be caused for individuals that have one. I want people to know they are worthy of not inflicting this pain upon themselves. I remember thinking to myself if I could not attain a low enough BMI or be tall that I was not good enough for life or for being attractive. Everyone is worth love, and it is still a hard lesson for me to know that I am enough. Yet, that will take time. I want to show how eating disorders can affect a wide variety of people including a man like me. It happens so much more frequently than what is realized by most. I heard once about a pipe problem of puke for a college dorm where I attend with the girls were throwing up food. I want more admissions to be made known because of loneliness being key for developing problems. With admission and vulnerability comes growth. There are networks, counselors, and there is me. I am going to give my email address for any who would need it for their own personal struggles. I am not an expert, but I am somebody. Remember again that you are enough. Eat what you want with no fear and always communicate your problems. 

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coltonzeigerfrench@gmail.com