Sweet Nothings: Living with an Eating Disorder

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Updated: Aug. 13, 2016

Originally Published: Aug. 13, 2016

What should I do when Ed shows up for dinner? I thought I had locked him out for good—twice. But here he is again, back for more.

I first encountered Ed when I was just 18. He must have sensed that I needed a friend. He approached me during a late-night stroll back to my dorm, and although I should have been scared, he felt like family. For countless hours, he sat with me in the Off Campus Deli while I nervously nibbled at my turkey sub, contemplating the mysteries of life.

He joined me for silent walks until 3 a.m. on Spring Street and through the Quad, just so I wouldn’t be alone. I found that sweet at the time. Every mile I ran, he urged me to push harder, always just a half-step ahead—10 miles a day, 7 days a week. And on Friday nights, while everyone else indulged in pizza and beer, he would curl up next to me in bed, whispering sweet nothings. But eventually, everything started to feel too small. I could no longer go anywhere without him, and he suffocated me with his presence. So, I finally asked him to leave.

Years later, when I was 37, we crossed paths again by chance. Now adults, we had both changed—but not enough. It was easy to slip back into our old routine. He’d sit with me as I sketched, waiting in the car after therapy to offer his unsolicited advice. His nightly stories always had the same theme: he was my lifeline, as if I were invisible without him. The irony was not lost on me, so I once more told him to go.

My time with Ed was strangely productive. He provided a false sense of control over circumstances that were otherwise unbearable, like dealing with the trauma of being raped at 18 or escaping a terrible marriage at 37. Ed was my constant companion through it all, but ultimately, he nearly took my life. I came to realize that this was his plan all along.

Now at 48, that rascal, Ed, has returned to my dinner table—uninvited. This time, he’s charming my barely 18-year-old daughter, who meticulously picks the potatoes out of her clam chowder and pulls the crust off her grilled cheese, rearranging it to give the illusion of a meal consumed. She wears a slight smile, and I can almost hear his whispers echoing in her ears, just like before, as he tries to ensnare her too.

So here I am, walking in silence until 3 a.m. on the nights when I don’t have the kids, pondering how to save my daughter’s life once again. I stroll down Parker Street, Main Street, and through the village near the Baptist Church, wrestling with the question of what to do when Ed arrives for dinner tomorrow. And as I mull over this unthinkable situation, I find myself wondering… maybe if I just lose some weight.

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Summary:

In this reflective piece, Jenna recounts her tumultuous relationship with her eating disorder, personified as “Ed.” From their initial meeting in her teenage years to his unwelcome return during her daughter’s adolescence, she explores the challenges of managing this struggle while attempting to protect her child from a similar fate. Ultimately, Jenna grapples with her own past while seeking ways to safeguard her daughter’s future.