Episode Details

TW: explicit discussion of eating disorders and body dysmorphia. It’s okay to skip this week if you need to ❤️

My ‘Oy with the Poodles Already!’ Gilmore Girls T-shirt no longer fits me comfortably. Neither does my ‘In Omnia Paratus’ one. They’re tight in the sleeves, and cling to my forearms.  I want to snap my fingers and shrink my torso so that I can fit into them like I used to. 

But I can’t do that. I’ve outgrown them. And that is a bitter pill to swallow.

I refuse to part with these beloved shirts. I’ll save them for my future children, or turn them into artwork, or maybe just keep them as a souvenirs.

But I can’t do that with all of the clothes I’ve outgrown. All of the old clothes that don’t fit my new body. My new, healthier, bigger body. The body that holds more weight because I am eating healthily for the first time in my adult life. The body that I am building each day, as I recover from an eating disorder that I thought I left behind years ago.

I developed an eating disorder in late middle school that lasted through early college. I read about the struggles that Hannah faces with bulimia in the book and television series, Pretty Little Liars. I was curious. I loved the idea of control. I quickly gravitated towards the ideals of thinness.

I didn’t have bulimia though. I had what was referred to as a Not Otherwise Specified Eating Disorder, at the time. It’s now called an Otherwise Specified Feeding and Eating Disorder.*

*I wrote all about my thoughts on this diagnosis, in a playwright’s note here. Bear in mind that I wrote this in 2018 - there has been a lot of development on how we view these kinds of disorders - both in society and in the DSM! (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders)

For years, I starved myself and closely obsessed over everything that I ate. I even went so far as to become a vegetarian so that I would have a justifiable excuse to cut out more from my diet. I was weak; I came close to fainting several times. I would throw a fit if I didn’t fit into a size 2 in every single store I shopped in. I worked so hard to control my hunger that I actually lost the sensation of being hungry. I was so proud of myself, for stomping out my hunger with the help of all kinds of dietary supplements from CVS. I felt horrible. But I loved the way I looked. I loved my sick, frail, thin body. I loved being small.

I saw multiple therapists during this time, and a nutritionist for a minute, but for the large part, life went on as usual during these years. There were months when my doctor and family focused on my eating disorder intensely, and months when I got to slide under the radar and pretend all was well. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch for the majority of 10th grade. When I did eat, I became a master of small portions. One summer, I became addicted to high intensity Zumba workouts, so I let myself eat a little more than usual since I was exercising so much.

Somewhere between freshman and sophomore year of college, I decided that I didn’t have a problem anymore. I was pretty depressed for the duration of sophomore year. In some ways, I was so distracted by that issue that I didn’t have as much energy to focus on thinness. I stayed thin nonetheless. And I was pretty happy about that.

(After eventually recovering from that depressive episode, I also thought that I would never be depressed again. Think again, 19 year old Alexa.)

There are many, many factors that went into my depression recovery, and my focus on healthier eating, that I’ll get into another time. But for now, all you need to know is that by senior year I thought I was cured, healed, and every other cliche you can think of. Ironically, a big part of my recovery from depress