I was reading old articles from the late 80s and early 90s about anorexia. It was during that era that the disease was brought to the media’s attention with the unfortunate death of Karen Carpenter in ’84. Even more light was shed when gymnast Christy Henrich died in 1994 and Tracey Gold documented her public battle with news outlets like People Magazine and Primetime Live . I look upon these articles and women and think so differently of the disease then than I do now. It’s hard to explain in words, but when I read about the disease then, it almost haunts me to the core. It’s like anorexia was this angel of death that came down and wrapped its long fingers around the hearts of these girls and squeezed them until they died. I look at anorexia (back then) as a frightening, shocking, and disturbing disorder and that if I touched it, I would automatically start to crumble and blow away like ash. And the most frightening part is I look upon those women as pioneers – eating disorder movies on Lifetime did not exist back then, nor did thinspiration or pro-anorexia — these women were some of the first to experience the disease in the public eye.
Now, I understand documented cases of anorexia go back hundreds of years. These women weren’t really “pioneers”. But they were the first that cameras caught glimpses of and journalists had documented. Anorexia then was so heart-breaking and terrifying. Anorexia now? I feel like society and media has stigmatized the disease and anyone who has it is made to feel like they are attention seekers or “emo.” Society has turned it into a “fad diet” and the pro-anorexia movement has turned it into a choice. There’s so much hype around it now that I feel people see it as a phase more than a real mental disorder.
As horrible as this sounds, I like to think of myself as somewhat of a “pioneer” of the disease as well– I developed anorexia around the time pro-anorexia started blooming. I was apart of the wave of girls who were looking on the Underground Grotto and Cerulean Butterfly . Girls were not yet submitting photos of themselves so we looked at models instead — Kate Moss among one of the biggest of our “thinspirations.” Then anorexia became this HYPE…it was almost “cool” to have an eating disorder and it was like a badge of honor. Everything was a competition and nothing was a real problem anymore. I firmly believe the media has turned this disease into a freakshow and these sites on tumblr and livejournal only make it worse. And the worst part is that I’m still apart of it all (tumblr, posting pics of myself, etc.)!
I often wonder if I would have developed this disease if I had been born in another era. If I hadn’t had Lifetime movies to watch or websites to look at, would I have chosen this as my coping mechanism? Would I have sought comfort through dieting and starvation? Would I have counted calories and obsessed over my weight? Would I be as messed up? I have to admit I don’t think I would have started restricting my food intake if it weren’t for watching eating disorder movies. But then again, even as a young girl watching The Secret Life of Mary Margaret: Portrait of a Bulimic , I was fascinated by the concept of an eating disorder. It was almost magical in a sense where I was always curious to know what it would be like to have one. I wasn’t curious to smoke, or to drink, or to have sex, or do drugs…I was curious as to what it felt like to lose weight by starvation. And even without these movies or websites, my mother put so much pressure on me to be perfect in every way. Looks and appearances and grades were everything — I remember being called a pig and a slob when things were messy, I remember crying in class in front of everyone for getting a B on a test because I knew my mother would ground me, I remember getting yelled at for tearing my stocking on the playground, I remember having to take my pictures over at school because I looked “ugly.” Nothing was good enough. Perfect recipe for an eating disorder, right? But would I have developed one if I had never heard of anorexia or bulimia? I guess I’ll never know.
And even now, when I question whether or not I ever had an eating disorder, if I didn’t, why would I still be hanging onto these behaviors after so long? Why, even in my strongest recovery days, did I constantly worry about weight? Why have I checked if my stomach wass still flat every morning for the past 12 years of my life? I can’t not call this a mental disorder if it’s something that has never gone away. If it was a choice, I’d eventually get bored and move onto something else, right? And in the end, I guess it doesn’t matter how or why or when I developed it. What matters is that I have it and I may always have it unless I made the conscious decision to work towards recovery.
And yet — even when I know great women have died of this — I look upon girls like Tracey Gold or Karen Carpenter or Christy Henrich as idols. And there lies the mental illness….but I can’t help but feel connected to that era. I can’t help but feel connected to all the women who have dealt with this, survived this, or died from this. I can’t help but feel a kinship. I can’t help but mourn for the lost and hope for those who still have hope.
I was reading old articles from the late 80s and early 90s about anorexia. It was during that era that the disease was brought to the media’s attention with the unfortunate death of Karen Carpenter in ’84. Even more light was shed when gymnast Christy Henrich died in 1994 and Tracey Gold documented her public battle with news outlets like People Magazine and Primetime Live . I look upon these articles and women and think so differently of the disease then than I do now. It’s hard to explain in words, but when I read about the disease then, it almost haunts me to the core. It’s like anorexia was this angel of death that came down and wrapped its long fingers around the hearts of these girls and squeezed them until they died. I look at anorexia (back then) as a frightening, shocking, and disturbing disorder and that if I touched it, I would automatically start to crumble and blow away like ash. And the most frightening part is I look upon those women as pioneers – eating disorder movies on Lifetime did not exist back then, nor did thinspiration or pro-anorexia — these women were some of the first to experience the disease in the public eye.
Now, I understand documented cases of anorexia go back hundreds of years. These women weren’t really “pioneers”. But they were the first that cameras caught glimpses of and journalists had documented. Anorexia then was so heart-breaking and terrifying. Anorexia now? I feel like society and media has stigmatized the disease and anyone who has it is made to feel like they are attention seekers or “emo.” Society has turned it into a “fad diet” and the pro-anorexia movement has turned it into a choice. There’s so much hype around it now that I feel people see it as a phase more than a real mental disorder.
As horrible as this sounds, I like to think of myself as somewhat of a “pioneer” of the disease as well– I developed anorexia around the time pro-anorexia started blooming. I was apart of the wave of girls who were looking on the Underground Grotto and Cerulean Butterfly . Girls were not yet submitting photos of themselves so we looked at models instead — Kate Moss among one of the biggest of our “thinspirations.” Then anorexia became this HYPE…it was almost “cool” to have an eating disorder and it was like a badge of honor. Everything was a competition and nothing was a real problem anymore. I firmly believe the media has turned this disease into a freakshow and these sites on tumblr and livejournal only make it worse. And the worst part is that I’m still apart of it all (tumblr, posting pics of myself, etc.)!
I often wonder if I would have developed this disease if I had been born in another era. If I hadn’t had Lifetime movies to watch or websites to look at, would I have chosen this as my coping mechanism? Would I have sought comfort through dieting and starvation? Would I have counted calories and obsessed over my weight? Would I be as messed up? I have to admit I don’t think I would have started restricting my food intake if it weren’t for watching eating disorder movies. But then again, even as a young girl watching The Secret Life of Mary Margaret: Portrait of a Bulimic , I was fascinated by the concept of an eating disorder. It was almost magical in a sense where I was always curious to know what it would be like to have one. I wasn’t curious to smoke, or to drink, or to have sex, or do drugs…I was curious as to what it felt like to lose weight by starvation. And even without these movies or websites, my mother put so much pressure on me to be perfect in every way. Looks and appearances and grades were everything — I remember being called a pig and a slob when things were messy, I remember crying in class in front of everyone for getting a B on a test because I knew my mother would ground me, I remember getting yelled at for tearing my stocking on the playground, I remember having to take my pictures over at school because I looked “ugly.” Nothing was good enough. Perfect recipe for an eating disorder, right? But would I have developed one if I had never heard of anorexia or bulimia? I guess I’ll never know.
And even now, when I question whether or not I ever had an eating disorder, if I didn’t, why would I still be hanging onto these behaviors after so long? Why, even in my strongest recovery days, did I constantly worry about weight? Why have I checked if my stomach wass still flat every morning for the past 12 years of my life? I can’t not call this a mental disorder if it’s something that has never gone away. If it was a choice, I’d eventually get bored and move onto something else, right? And in the end, I guess it doesn’t matter how or why or when I developed it. What matters is that I have it and I may always have it unless I made the conscious decision to work towards recovery.
And yet — even when I know great women have died of this — I look upon girls like Tracey Gold or Karen Carpenter or Christy Henrich as idols. And there lies the mental illness….but I can’t help but feel connected to that era. I can’t help but feel connected to all the women who have dealt with this, survived this, or died from this. I can’t help but feel a kinship. I can’t help but mourn for the lost and hope for those who still have hope.