Читать книгу Starving In Search of Me - Marissa LaRocca - Страница 6

Introduction

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“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

–Maya Angelou

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Dear Reader,

I remember the day I decided to attempt writing about my experiences with an eating disorder. It was my senior year of college, and I sat before a blank Word document in the campus library with the cursor blinking for at least thirty minutes before a single word came to mind. I had become so detached from my emotions at that point that giving a voice to the fragile, feeling parts of myself felt foreign, even impossible. But after years of enduring a very intense, very private battle with food and exercise, and knowing I was on the road to recovery, I felt I had something meaningful to say. I had traveled to places few people have gone and I had seen things few people have seen. I was convinced I might write the next New York Times bestseller, if only I could get a single sentence onto paper.

It’s been nine years since that day, and in that time, I’ve felt an ongoing urgency to “figure myself out.” That is, to peel back the complicated layers and understand what led me to struggle with this addiction in the first place. Was it a cry for help? If so, what kind of help was I seeking? Was it an experiment? If so, what was I hoping to gain by challenging my physical limits? Was it a spiritual quest? If yes, then what inspired me to want to expand beyond the physical world and connect with something greater? Sure, I’ve always felt “different.” But I come from a good family and a good home. In the eyes of any onlooker, I have not suffered any real hardships in my life. Yet what hijacked my reality was something so dark and so powerful, something all-encompassing that swallowed me whole.

The interesting thing I’ve come to realize in the process of reflecting and writing about my eating disorder is that what appeared to be a food disorder really had nothing to do with food at all. My addiction was the thing I used to distract me from my pain. It was a coping mechanism that enabled me to avoid dealing with my real issues—an undeveloped sense of self, social anxiety, and confusion around my sexuality, among other identity roadblocks. I was not yet equipped with the tools to nurture myself, or the courage to make my needs known to others, and so I clung to very deliberate behaviors that had predictable outcomes…like starving myself.

As more and more of this developed in my awareness, I began to consider the relationship between my eating disorder and the reoccurring feelings of my adolescence—feeling like I didn’t fit in, feeling like I couldn’t stand up for myself, and feeling like I didn’t always deserve to take up space in the world. All the while I was dodging calories, purging, and compulsively exercising, I was actually just trying to protect myself from a reality that felt dangerous and unsafe.

This was a pretty big realization for me, in that it prompted me to think more openly about addiction and mental illness as a whole. I began to wonder: to what extent are disorders actually “disorders,” and to what extent are they doorways to helping us understand the truth about our lives? Many people engage in self-deprecating or even masochistic behaviors to help them cope with an underlying challenge at some point in their existence. Are all of these people sick? Or can we empower them instead and say they simply haven’t yet accessed the parts of themselves that hold the key to their healing? Perhaps at the root of all addiction is the refusal to acknowledge or permit certain feelings—feelings that, if witnessed, have the power to free their sufferers. Perhaps the suffering is even part of the journey to healing.

Then there’s society and the rest of the world to consider. While it’s definitely not my prerogative to defend eating disorders or other acts of self-harm, I do believe their prevalence in our modern world is an epidemic that must be compassionately examined. Though commonly experienced in isolation, such “disorders” represent a collective yearning for connection, acceptance, and emotional nourishment among generations that are starving for many things. Simply organizing sufferers of anorexia, bulimia, and other issues into their respective boxes based on an exhibited list of symptoms and treating them accordingly is not enough to heal them. We need to dig deeper. We need to ask, “Who are the human beings beneath these labels? And what are they really hungry for?”

The experience of writing this book has been both therapeutic and agonizing. In trying to untangle what began as a heavy, abstract knot of thoughts and emotions, I’ve learned quite a few things about myself—things that have given me a clearer direction not only in writing this book, but in living my life. In addition to having some meaningful things to share with others, it turns out that I also had a lot to uncover for myself and a lot of growing to do. I appreciate you taking the time to witness the parts of this journey I’ve managed to transcribe.

At thirty-one years old, I’m happy to say I no longer struggle with an eating disorder of any kind. While I admit I’m a work in progress like anyone else, I’ve developed a sense of awareness, compassion, and appreciation for myself that makes it feel impossible now for me to disparage myself in any way. In discovering who I am and what I need to feel sane in the world, I’ve opened myself up to a reality where I’m able to be more trusting and forgiving toward myself and others. I recognize now that it’s my own responsibility to take care of myself, and with the realization of this responsibility comes a great deal of power.

In the following pages, I’ll share with you everything I’ve come to understand about my hunger and all of its implications. While this book might be most relevant to those who have experienced or are currently experiencing an eating disorder, I think it will make a good companion for anyone who’s struggled with identity, sexuality, or an addiction of any kind. Regardless of who you are and where you’re coming from, I am thankful for the opportunity to reach you.

Marissa