If there wasn’t something addictive about having an eating disorder people would recover a lot faster. A large part of that addiction for me were the hunger highs. It is like a drug addict chasing that glorious hit but also being forced to deal with the consequential low. It was one of the main components that got my hooked on my anorexia in the first place. I became addicted to and still enjoy sometimes these highs. The first few times I overcame my hunger it felt incredible. I felt so empowered by my amazing resilience. I was able to deprive my body of food when it was crying out for it. However, as is the case with drug addicts, repeated highs eventually lead to even bigger crashes, and in order to achieve those incredible highs the extent my starvation grew.
It was so unbelievably disordered and toxic but the thought pattern became so entrenched. I was craving that mental satisfaction day in day out to the point where if I wasn’t going to bed hungry and waking up hungry then it wasn’t enough. Kevin had such a firm grip over my mind that he had me completely and utterly convinced this was an achievement and something I should strive for daily. It is not. It is actually horrible. Yet, it made that no carb, small portioned, main meal of the day I would have so much more rewarding as I knew I had worked really, really hard for it. Even better was being able to finish that meal and still feel hungry. I believed it meant I was doing something right. The one mini chocolate egg was allowed and taking 20 minutes to eat it, rather than in one bite, in order to savour every moment was the ultimate reward. It was a very addictive cycle but I knew if I wanted to get better eventually I would have to break it.
Being forced to satisfy my hunger when beginning recovery was hellish. I hated it and like most parts of my recovery resisted it. It was like a skill which I worked really hard to cultivate suddenly wasn’t a skill. I had to abandon something that I thought in some twisted way I enjoyed.
Over time my adoration of hunger highs did diminish. When I began to think for myself and not my eating disorder it became apparent that hunger is in fact a horrible and unpleasant pain. Yet, like an addict, when I have moments of relapse - I miss a snack or meal for whatever reason my ED is coming up with that day - and am able to overcome my hunger I get a little kick and rush. It is not like it used to be but it’s strong enough that it reminds me that there were some parts of my ED that were mentally exhilarating.
I read a paragraph in my new book that I wanted to share with any of my readers out there. I believe the words hold some truth about eating disorders and highlight why they become so entrapping. Chapter 34, Transcendent Kingsom, by Yaa Gyasi: “Opioids work on the reward circuits of the brain. The first time you take them, your brain is so flooded with dopamine that you are left thinking, like food, like sex, opioids are good for you, necessary for the very survival of your species. “do it again! do it again!” your brain tells you, but every time you listen, the drugs work a little less and demand a little more, until finally you give them everything and get nothing in return - no rush, no surge of pleasure, just a momentary relief from the misery of withdrawal.”
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