“So…are you vegan?”
Ugh! Here we go again! Another dinner with the boyfriends family, meeting new people who had come into town. Another question I didn’t want to answer. Unfortunately, this is something people who struggle with eating disorders are all to used to. “Um…no, I’m not.” Awkward trail off as I changed the subject.
Fear of being found out or discovered. Guilt that I was acting abnormal enough that people were asking questions at mealtime. Shame for what I am.
Shame that the true answer to this question was no, I’m not vegan, I’m anorexic.
A mental illness and medical condition. Not in any way a character flaw or some kind of path of immorality or mar in virtue. How does such a word as anorexic come to so encompass and define a person, as opposed to “I have anorexia”. Cancer sufferers are simply that: people with cancer, not cancerics. People with multiple sclerosis aren’t multiple sclerotics. And yet we are vegans, vegetarians, paleo, and anorexic/bulimic somehow got linked into that category. Something we are, not something we have.
Shame
Here’s my question: how does the emotion of shame get linked to a life threatening medical condition? I follow several vloggers on youtube who talk about fitness/lifestyle and I’ve seen at least 2 videos in the past 24 hours alone that follow the story line of “I’ve been accused of having an eating disorder/orthorexia/anorexia and I don’t! I’m not an orthorexic (or insert choice adjective here)!”
Nobody “accuses” people of having cancer. Nobody defensively refutes the presence of fibromyalgia or lupus.
Shame: I am something bad. Guilt: I have done something bad.
See the problem here? And how do we heal when we feel like we are inherently so poisonous, after taking one of these labels upon ourselves? Defining our lives. Just another thought about the weight of words.
Sounds Like Somewhere 