a day in the life of my eating disorder
I have something on my heart that I’ve wanted to share about for years, but it felt too shameful to reveal while I was going through it.
I had binge eating disorder.
“Binge eating disorder” feels like three measly words that don’t encapsulate the hell my body went through during this experience.
For 7 years, food consumed my life. What started with the pure intention to heal digestion issues, quickly and also slowly spiraled into being about so much more. Eating was about my livelihood. I held this belief that if ate perfectly, then I would heal my concussion, I would get the body of my dreams, attract my soul mate and, most importantly, I would be able to get back to playing soccer like myself.
Food thoughts consumed my life. I attributed my lingering concussion symptoms to not being strict enough with my diets.
I know now, that this is complete and utter nonsense. But, fuck, when you’re in it, it’s a dark and shameful place. Because you don’t know why you can’t stop your binging, especially when it’s the thing you loathe the most about yourself. I’ve never felt more out of control.
I share this story with so much compassion for myself and anyone who resonates with it. I believe that disordered eating and body image issues are way way way more prominent than we know. Especially, in the female athletic world.
I’ll be sharing how I got to the other side in the future, but for now, here’s a piece where I recount a day in the life of my eating disorder, when I was in the thick of it.
Sending love to anyone who relates and I hope you know that every part of you is pure magic.
xx Kendall
(listen to the podcast version below the written piece or on iTunes HERE )
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At 9:48pm I walked over to the counter of an empty Laughing Planet. It was just me and the cashier, Dave, a mid 20ish year-old ball-capped man that I couldn’t quite determine if I thought was cute or not.
“May I have some chips and salsa please?”
“Don’t over do it with that meal…” Dave sarcastically smiled back at me.
I couldn’t quite determine if he was flirting or not. I couldn’t quite determine a lot of things when I was in this state. But, I could determine that Dave wouldn’t have said that if he knew four hours earlier I was sitting on my couch and all I could think about was a chocolate chip cookie. At first, I tried to write out my feelings about wanting a chocolate chip cookie so that I wouldn’t give in to the chocolate chip cookie. Then, I tried to focus my attention on finalizing a podcast episode so I wouldn’t give in to the chocolate chip cookie. I tried watching more game film so I wouldn’t give into the chocolate chip cookie. I tried tidying up my place so I wouldn’t give in to the chocolate chip cookie. But the chocolate chip cookie…like most nights, was a pesky, persistent, fatass moth, and I was an even fatter-assed light bulb.
Of course, once again, I failed.
You stupid piece of shit. What is wrong with you? I mean, I love you. But, also what the fuck?
The voices in my head were at constant battle with one other. On these nights, the voice I like to call The Cookie Monster, took over with vengeance.
I knew what was about to ensue, no matter how hard I tried to stop it.
It mostly started with New Seasons. My favorite and least favorite grocery store. Kendall dreaded it. The Cookie Monster devoured it.
When I arrived at the store, I opted for a paleo cookie and a cookie dough flavored Quest bar. Healthier options than the real thing. And maybe, just maybe, this time the result would be different than my hundreds of others.
I sat down in the eating area and did my best to savor the treats. The Cookie Monster grew louder with each bite.
My endorphins were raving. I needed more.
I knew I had already flunked. There was no going back. I might as well eat everything I wanted and tomorrow I would start anew. I would be good tomorrow. For real. Tomorrow would be different. But, tonight, I feast. I couldn’t buy more at this New Season though, because then the cash register might notice me again and think I’m a whale with no self-control.
Before I left for my next mission, like I always did, I had to make my rounds in the bulk section.
The bulk section was the Mecca. It had the nuts, granola, chocolate covered raisins, dried mangoes. All the stuff that was too sugary or crappy for me to consume normally. And the bonus: I didn’t have to pay for it, so it’s like it didn’t count. Every time I was in the Mecca, I mentally rehearsed the secret role play of my dreams:
Employee who notices me eating out of the bulk section like it’s an all you can eat buffet: “excuse me ma’am you can’t sample the bulk section like that. You have to pay for those items.”
Me, simultaneously blushing and aggressively hugging the employee who notices me eating out of the bulk section like it’s an all you can eat buffet: “oh my goodness, thank you to the heavens and back for catching me! I’ve been hoping I’d get roasted by someone for ages. I promise I’m not trying to be a bad person, it’s just that I have uncontrollable binges. And when this happens, I literally feel like I exit my body and The Cookie Monster takes the wheel of my mind. I feel sooo much shame about it but because you caught me, now I will never do it again and I will finally heal. Thank you!!”
Once I got my Mecca fix and closed the curtains on this imaginary scene, it was onto the next one.
At this point, I had memorized every single New seasons and Whole Foods within a 20 mile radius of Portland. I imagine this is what addicted gamblers do with casinos.
I got in my car, and drove to a New Seasons 10 minutes away.
There’s something about these drives that feels sacred. It’s as if I am a baby being pacified by the sensory experience of cruising along dark, uncrowded roads. I can be all to myself. Listen to whatever emo music I want. Cry. Escape the feeling that I am a fuck up because I binged last night too and I woke up this morning convinced that today would be the day for change, but it wasn’t because I am a fuck up.
I have a tab going on my whiteboard. I get a star every time I go a day without a binge. And a heart, to attempt compassion, every day I binge. I was seeing a lot hearts lately. But, today was supposed to be the day for change. I left for Thorns training without eating anything. The night prior, I had round-housed enough for the entire day alone, so I would intermittent fast until the afternoon. Train on an empty stomach. You burn more calories that way anyways.
I showed up to training, and like always was the case, I felt groggy as our coach was going over our plan for the day. During warm up, my arms started tingling, and I had a massive desire to run away from this scene all together.
My first thought wasn’t that these symptoms were a result from the severe concussion I was recovering from, but because of my binge episode. Obviously I feel so off because I stuffed my face the night before, and now I’m sabotaging myself!
On the weeks where I have a bunch of stars on my whiteboard, yet still have those symptoms? It is because I was not eating clean enough. I need to be even better than my gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, low-carb, high fat, mostly plant-based, lots of veggies, fasting in the morning, drinking a glass of water upon awakening, don’t eat after 7pm lifestyle (it wasn’t a diet because this is how I planned to be eating for life, in order to be my most optimal self).
The car rides between grocery stores are a place for me to forget about everything. Just surrender into the darkness. My darkness.
I arrived at the next New Seasons. This time, I opted for the creaminess of ice cream and the fluffiness of a slice of vanilla cake. I didn’t really want it, but I also couldn’t stop.
I followed this up with a trip to Whole Foods for more cookies and a pitstop at a pizza joint.
How I still wasn’t full after eating energy bars, cookies, ice cream, cake, handfuls of samples at the multiple Meccas, and pizza was beyond me. At this rate, I could eat the entire Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory and still have room for more.
Finally, after a few hours, I started to feel the intense discomfort of my bloating stomach. I was super thankful this sensation arose, because it was one of the few things that stopped my face stuffing. But, since I was starting over with my healthy eating tomorrow, I might as well make the most of tonight. I decided to go for one last night cap.
At 9:48pm I walked over to the counter of an empty Laughing Planet. It was just me and the cashier, Dave, a mid 20ish year-old ball-capped man that I couldn’t quite determine if I thought was cute or not.
“May I have some chips and salsa please?”
“Don’t over do it with that meal…” Dave sarcastically smiled back at me.
I couldn’t quite determine if he was flirting or not. I couldn’t quite determine a lot of things when I was in this state. But I could determine that Dave wouldn’t have said that if he knew ordering those chips was the one thing that I was determined not to do today. That the entirety of my day revolved around THE ONE goal of eating like a normal person.
But of course, once again I failed.
You stupid piece of shit. What is wrong with you? I mean, I love you. But, also what the fuck?
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