Izaotee is the unedited author of these posts
Izaotee is a word play from my mother tongue. It means: THIS IS ME.
I chose this pseudonym for its irony. I don’t really know who I am. I have been passive to all labels created by those around me: friends, family and acquaintances. “Bubbly”, “intelligent”, “irritable”, “crazy” … I let myself become an ignorant chameleon leading a life moulded by real and unreal expectations. Whether positively or negatively branded, I was lost in trying to be as they mistakenly expected me to be. Exhausted by this endless self-doubt, I unconsciously abused food to relieve some of the pain.
I willingly sought therapy in 2013 while I was in a “restricting phase” after a year worth of “dieting” or trying to be healthy. I had started seeing the controlling habits towards food creep back in my life. I panicked. Remembering familiar signs that led me to a very dark place in the past. Truthfully, I thought I could keep the weight off and that therapy would be geared toward helping me keep the weight off. I was quickly proven wrong. Therapy saw food as the symptom and not the cause of my struggles. I could walk out anytime. I had to choose between living or pretending.
I was only 14, the first time I “dieted”. I tried to fit into my image of who I should be. I had never heard of an eating disorder before. How could food harm you? How could you use food to harm yourself? From 15-19, I went through the last remnants of anorexia then bulimia, depression and bingeing. Again I did not know what this was all about. I thought an eating disorder was only to starve yourself. I thought if I ate, I would be alright. My self-abuse was unconscious, until much later when I learned it was my way of escaping. As I went into my 20s, I thought Anorexia, Bulimia, Bingeing or any other unhealthy habits I used to torture myself with had gone away. They never went away.
At 24, I sought for help. I saw the patterns. I could not function anymore without obsessively planning food. My search for “health” became an obsession with food. Again.
Even so, I had to live. I had to live in this reality no matter how painful it could be.
Since therapy, I have become gradually conscious of the reasons for my self-destruction. Slowly understanding that I was not cursed to be fat. I over-eat to escape and for many other reasons. Therapy seems to work, it is slow but worth it. I needed to find a lasting solution and uncover the multi-layered reasons for my addiction to food. I dialled that number willingly. Unlike before during my restrictive episode when I was pressured to seek professional help. I went from psychiatrists to psychologists to nutritionists. All feeding me information I could not comprehend. Once I gained the weight back, it was as if their job and my job was done. I was only pretending to be fine which eased their tasks. This time, all grown up, I wanted to “get real” with myself. I called for help.
This year only (2013), I went from size zero to triple XL. Yet somewhere inside, I am hopeful that I am finally working towards a longer lasting relief. I feel heavy, I am heavy but I am no longer living in a haze. I can feel pain, anger, disapointment, rejection and many other feelings and fight to co-exist with them.
Some of my story is certainly similar to many of yours. I will write about the main vilain: “food” and all the other common characters of our novels: “triggers”, “urges”, “obsessive thoughts”, “emotions”, “disappointment”, “real and unreal expectations”. I will write anonymously, since, you, dear bloggers and my therapist are the only ones to whom I choose to be exposed to. Somehow I am comfortable with the thought that this blog is public but the public cannot know me.
I will share my raw feelings and thoughts.
This blog is my place of freedom.