My story. Once an anorexic

EATING DISORDER Once An Anexic… MY STORY

By Kerry-Ann Scrase

I can remember the exact moment when I decided that the solution to my social dilemma was to lose weight…I was on holiday at the coast with my parents and my friend at the time. Michaela* was hardly a stick figure. In fact, she was quite curvy, but she was olive -skinned, had long hair that had that beachy windswept look, had a raspy voice, was funny and the boys loved her.

Then there was me: fair, unruly curly red hair, freckles, short, flat chested, high-pitched voice - too mature for my age, too ambitious, too loud and a bit arty. I was 'cute' though. But cute is not 'hot'. So, in my 15-year-old mind I decided that if I lost weight, got fitter and faster (I was an average but avid runner) that somehow, I would gain some social credibility and elevate myself to the same cool heights as the rest of my peer group.

So, after that holiday began the journey of deception and my ability to survive on the least amount of food possible, whilst still doing every thing with 100% commitment be it schoolwork, cultural activities or sport.

It was a carefully crafted routine of running late for breakfast and grabbing just enough to make sure no-one could accuse me of skipping breakfast, throwing away school lunches or hiding them in the side-pocket of my school bag (where they would remain and rot until they were more penicillin than bread).

Afternoon activities would ensure that there was no time to eat and a quick cup of yoghurt before rushing off to rehearsals or speech practice would keep me going until I got home later that night. Dodging supper was probably the most difficult but saying I was tired and just felt like a cup of coffee or Milo would often do the trick. smallest of servings were spread on my plate to create an illusion of volume would do the trick.

Then there was the exercising - I had to exercise everyday - training with the athletics or cross-country team would be supplemented by my own running at home. Sit ups done compulsively at night in my pyjamas after switching the light off would keep the guilt and need for control in check until the next morning, when the whole routine would start again.

I cannot remember how many months it took but the kilograms did drop off, not that there were many to start with as I am naturally tiny and petite in the true sense of the word. So, although, at worst I only lost about 7/8kgs - it was enough to push my weight down to around 36 or 37kg at my lightest.

It was enough for my periods to stop; but it was not enough to make me cool. Now instead of just being short and cute, I was thin, short and cute. Whilst I had succeeded in my attempt to shed those 'extra kilos', I had failed to achieve my ultimate goal.

But it worked for me. It had become a habit. A way of life.

I think it was at my confirmation that someone asked my mom if there was something wrong

as I was looking thin and tired. When you live with someone you do not always notice what is happening and whilst my folks did show concern when I did not eat, I do not think they necessarily noticed the extent of the weight loss – until that moment.

My mom did the right thing – shipped me off to our trusty GP who asked questions, made me draw a picture of my hand and told me that I had a distorted body image and gave me an ultimatum to start gaining weight or else we would need to seek professional help.

Strangest thing – whilst the chubby hand I drew for him may have told one story, in my mind I knew I was thin – the problem was that I was not thin enough to be 'cool'.

Fast forward 30 years and this is my reality – I gained weight and I did not have to get professional help, but I am still a health freak. I still do not eat with abandon. I still have people nagging me to eat more. I still get a kick out of skipping a meal. I still exercise regularly and did so religiously through two pregnancies to the point that I weighed less after having my children than before.

I do not weigh myself often, but I do scrutinise myself when I walk past the mirror in my bedroom every day. And I NEVER try clothes on in change rooms.

I am a healthier weight (maybe too healthy for my liking, if I am to be honest) and I have achieved 'coolness' finding confidence in who and what I am. I have been married to a great man for nearly 25 years. We have two awesome kids. I have cycled more races than I can count, run Comrades and done loads of exciting things.

But what I do know and what I own and understand, is that once an anorexic, always an anorexic. I will never have a natural relationship with food. I do enjoy it, but I will always cut the cake in half and take the smallest helping.

Excessive exercising

Mind games with the mirror

“What has changed is that I do not define myself by what the scale says. Rather it is just a part of what makes me, me. In the same way as my obsession with coffee and love of musicals makes me who I am.”