Eating disorders are often, very reasonably, considered a type of addiction. There is the same obsession over getting a 'fix' whatever the method, be it binging, exercising, purging, or the strange and dizzying high of a day fasting and seeing the number go down when you step on the scales. There is the same desperation when you know you can't control something, the use of behaviours to push aside feelings, and eventually, the same realisation that you are completely fucked and have no idea how to stop.
Now imagine you really want to stop. Addicts usually hit a point where they realise they need to, because it's getting dangerous, and it just isn't working any more. So you put it down, right? Stop drinking, stop injecting drugs, stop calling your dealer, and take the option completely off the table, so to speak.
I can't do that. I am in no way suggesting that it's not hard for the alcoholic or the heroin addict to stop - the physical effects of withdrawal in addition to the mental effort required to make that change must be incredible. But at least they can. As a bulimic and compulsive exerciser, the easiest possible way to stop, would be not to have food around at all, and to stop exercising full stop. See the problem? We have to eat, still. We have to find a way to eat a sensible, healthy amount and establish a moderate, healthy relationship with food. Imagine that in the light of other addictions - say to the alcoholic, ah, yes, you want to stop being an addict - you just need to make sure you have a measure of vodka and a glass of wine every day - just the one - or you'll die. Now add guidelines and media. Hey there, drug addict, I'm sorry you find it so hard to limit yourself, but everyone in the world should have a hit three times a week, if you can do it more often, so much the better. What, you don't like heroin that much? Well that's ok, find something you do like - crack twice a week with your friends can keep you fit and healthy too. Or the social occasions - 'go on, have another biscuit, you're skinny, you'll be fine' (the equivalent possibly stretches the metaphor a little - 'go on, have a drink, you don't look like you have a dodgy liver, so it's not going to do you any harm'). Well actually no, because the incredible level of willpower it took to eat one biscuit in the first place is going to entirely evaporate when you start eating the second one, and that's the whole day ruined, because now you've messed it up once, you may as well make it a proper binge if you're going to have to get rid of it anyway. And suddenly, not only are you having the last straw thrust almost literally down your throat, but everyone is looking too, and it feels like the shame might just eat you first, because who, apart from a bulimic really understands the need to consume vast quantities of food and throw it all up again? It's just greed, right? Not to mention wasteful. You're not even going to digest it - it's pure momentary gratification.
And that's why, parallel as EDs and addictions may be on many levels, the only way to get past them is to reframe the definition of your drug of choice, and focus on a behaviour attached to it. The addiction cannot be to food itself, but to the controlling measures that we place on ourselves to create a certain body type or shape, to losing weight, to the high that comes from the swift transition between the comfort of 'full' to the weak/powerful paradox of 'empty'. Feelings, not food. Learning to see it as life-giving, a means to thrive and participate in the present moment.
It's really fucking hard.
