Tunnel of Death: An Eating Disorder

I was scared. My dad was crying. He was the most important person in the world to me and he was crying. I don’t remember him crying – ever. I started to shiver.

I wished he would stop. Please stop dad. Please don’t make a scene. We were in a restaurant and kids I knew could walk in and see us. I would never hear the end of it! I could hear it now – “Your dad’s a baby!” they would taunt. It was bad enough they called me “bones”, heaven forbid they would call my dad names too!

I stared at my dad and watched the tears flow down his checks. “Please Mary, eat!” he begged, his voice strained and weary.

I shook my head furiously. “I can’t” I protested, my body beginning to shake as I stared at the turkey sandwich set before me. I continued to stare at the sandwich and shake my head as if by doing so I could shake away my dad’s voice which kept reaching deep within me, softly coaxing me to eat.

I had been unable to eat for so long. I had been adamant in my strength and resolve, no one could force me to eat. But suddenly, within a matter of a few minutes, something within me clicked. I was transfixed as if in a dream and I was unable to understand how the half sandwich had gotten from my hand to my mouth. I remember my stomach hurting after I ate the sandwich. I had gone so long without solid food, subsisting on oranges and apples for so long that my stomach could not tolerate the sudden onslaught of food; one half of a sandwich and I was sick. I know it was the power of the Holy Spirit taking hold of my hand, moving it toward the food and helping me to eat.

The year was 1971. I was thirteen years old and dying of malnutrition. I had a disease called Anorexia Nervosa. Anorexia Nervosa was not a known disease at that time; certainly no one in my family or community knew what this disease was. Nobody knew I was starving myself because I was lonely, depressed, and felt insecure about growing up. How did this happen?

I was twelve years old when I entered the tunnel of death. I call it the tunnel of death because my mind was a slave to food. I was traveling down the tunnel with no vision to the right or left, only straight ahead. My mind was constantly counting calories eaten and calories burned. I didn’t know I was trapped in the tunnel of death – it happened so suddenly.

In sixth grade I began to mature into a woman faster than average. While most girls were in training bras, I was more developed. But it wasn’t just my bust size. I was developing curves which made me appear heavier than most of my petite female classmates. I felt clumsy, lonely, and out of place.

I remember a particular day in sixth grade. We had just gotten back from lunch when a girl in my class bumped into me by accident and complained loudly, “If you weren’t so huge I could get into the classroom.”

“Stop that,” my sixth grade teacher reprimanded. “Some of us are just plumper than others.”

“Yeah she’s plump all right, chanted a boy, plump and fat.”

Hot sultry tears welled up in my eyes as my face flushed a bright red. I turned my head away from the laughter feeling a determination to stop their laughter once and for all.

Around that time my aunt was over at our house for a visit. She was forever giving people unwanted advice and could not help but lend me some as well.

“Why Mary, I see that you have gained a bit of weight. I have always found it helpful to count calories. I have an extra calorie counting guide, why don’t you have it.” She continued to ramble on with no regard for my feelings on the matter. I took the book and thought about tossing it. Instead I began to absorb it, every detail. Before long I had purchased several books on losing weight and counting calories. It was then I decided to go on a diet.

It began as a sensible diet that went horribly wrong. I couldn’t stop. I was trapped in the tunnel of death. I saw myself as never being thin enough, even at 85, 70, 65, 60, or, at my lowest weight, 57 pounds. People began to whisper about me. They were all wrong. They were all fat. Even the people I once thought of as thin were now fat in my eyes. My mind was confused. Why couldn’t I get thin?

I understand that Anorexia Nervosa is a disease of the mind. I would never be thin enough because it was not about being thin. The disease is about control, being in control of your life. I felt out of control because I was developing into a woman and I was not ready. I was afraid of losing control of my body and who I was. I needed help from somebody fast because the tunnel of death was swallowing me up.

“Stop, you can’t make me eat!” I screamed as I ran from the kitchen table. All they wanted to do was to make me fat again. Get me back to the old me – fat ugly me. I sat alone in my room staring at the wall.

“Aren’t you hungry?” came the voice of my sister out of the shadow. Startled I looked up, angry at the intrusion of my thoughts. “No!” I insisted. It seemed like I was always angry lately “Mom says they will take you to the hospital soon,” came the voice of my sister once more.

“I don’t care,” I retorted. “Just leave me alone!” She did. So did everybody else, or so it seemed. But they prayed and God did not leave me alone. I was now at my lowest weight – 57 pounds.

Soon after this, I began to eat at the restaurant. The Holy Spirit took my life and did a U-Turn at the restaurant that saved my life. There is no other way to explain it, since Anorexia Nervosa has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder. Young women and men often die of this disorder once they reach the point I did. My parent’s faith in God and constant prayers saved my life. This doesn’t mean I was cured, but God saved me from the jaws of death to regain enough weight to survive. My battle had just begun. It would be another three years before I would read an article about Anorexia Nervosa and learn about this disease.

Despite my new faith in Christ I was not yet willing or able to give up my food obsessions to God. I struggled with weight loss and gain throughout high school and college. A perfectionist, I achieved high honors and top grades. Secretly I binged, purged with excessive exercise and laxatives, hating myself the entire time. I was constantly trying to reach the perfect control over food.

Once out of college I finally got some therapy when my weight plummeted again to a low of 98 pounds. The therapy helped but once out of therapy the pattern of food abuse and obsessive control of food and exercise began again. Therapy gave me a measure of peace and control; outside of therapy, the real world offered chaos and constant change. Change had always been my enemy. God has been working with me to handle change.

I am now married to a caring husband who loves me. God blessed us with a wonderful son who is now fourteen years old. It has been a loving God patiently teaching me to accept myself that has truly healed me. God has shown me that life’s ups and downs are not in my control but in his control. I still struggle at times with a need to control through exercise and diet, but the extreme pattern is gone – God is in control.

1) Jim Gray, Ph.D., American University Not an Adolescent Whim: The Facts about Eating Disorders June 13, 2002; Washington, D.C. Mary Emmeck is a freelance writer and resides in Maple Grove, Minnesota.