“I remember worrying about my size and shape from about the age of 11. Initially I thought there was a reason I wasn’t getting attention from females. I was a big boy, but other guys who were getting attention weren’t.”
At home, my family would tell me, ‘You’re special, you’re a handsome boy’. But I wasn’t getting the same validation anywhere else.
I started attributing the way things were going to my physical appearance. I’d look at other people and think ‘Why am I different?’
I compared myself to other boys at school initially. Definitely as I got older I was more aware of media and the attention and focus on the male figure and what you should and shouldn’t look like.
I had negative body issues, but it wasn’t until I decided to diet and exercise at the age of 19 to feel a bit better about myself that my eating disorder set in.
I’d lost about 10 kilos and I got this really great validation of, ‘Oh you’re looking great!’ I got that positive reinforcement – my appearance was pleasing to other people, therefore I’m getting affection and attention.
I became more intense with my dieting, more intense with my exercise. Within five months I was fully along for the ride.
It was my life. My entire day and train of thought was about body weight and shape. What I can eat, what I can’t eat and how much exercise I’ve got to do.
I got into this routine, this structure where every single day had to be the same for the sense of control.
Everything else, relationships, friends, work, outside interests all went by the wayside.
My family could see I was killing myself in front of them.
My mum could see how obsessive I’d become, how arrogant and aggressive and angry, how much of a short fuse I had. I’d become really selfish and self-involved, and secretive. I wasn’t the same boy.
My mum was always asking what was happening, what was I doing. She was poking the monster and I would rear up and get aggressive and retaliate and challenge. She went from being my best friend to my worst enemy.
I had such a tight death grip on my eating and exercise at all times that I couldn’t entertain going out and seeing people. My friendships dwindled and the quality of the friendships I was able to hang onto was pretty poor.
Health wise, I was gaunt. I wasn’t just losing fat, I was losing organ mass and muscle tissue. My organs shrank, my brain shrank and my body started to shut down.
My extremities would go blue. There were times I couldn’t move, my legs would go numb, I couldn’t even stand – I’d have to lie down and then I couldn’t even get myself up again.
I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. I’d become emotionally numb, things would happen and I wouldn’t be affected because I was so self-involved.
I’d think to myself, ‘I should be feeling something here but I’m not’. It was like emotional Novocain.
Cognitively I couldn’t focus or concentrate. I was always trying to do 100 different things, I was always anxious, restless, tense and on edge.
I was really tired, but I couldn’t sleep because of the anxiety and the constant tension. At one point I almost died when I fell asleep at the wheel.
The turning point for me came when I finally acknowledged I had a problem.
I was at uni and I remember coming home and lying on the floor in a foetal position and thinking, ‘If I don’t move, then I don’t have to think.’
I went to my mum and said, ‘I’m sick, I don’t know what to do’. And she said, ‘Okay, let’s get help.’ We didn’t muck around.
Unfortunately I’d get better, then relapse, then get better and then relapse again. But that’s the journey.
Battling an eating disorder is a lifelong commitment whether you’re in a state of upturn or a state of spiraling down. And it will be the rest of my life – it will be up and down.
However each time I’m in a better place, a better space of being in recovery, I’m stronger. Each day I get up and breath in, breath out and make that conscious choice to choose life, to choose recovery, to chose not to indulge in my eating disorder thoughts.
I’m 30 now and a therapist myself. I feel 3D in the world again, rather than two-dimensional. My relationships have become really rich and enriching in my life.
If you are worried about a male in your life, talk to them. But be careful not to put the blame on them or use accusatory statements like, ‘You’re worry me’.
Instead, always use ‘I’ statements.
‘I’m really worried, I’m noticing that you’ve lost a bit of weight and I’m wondering what’s happening for you.’
Do it in a very loving and caring way. They may not be ready to talk to you but that’s okay. Let them know that you’ll be there for them if they do choose to.”
Concerned about a male in your life? Contact The Butterfly Foundation on thebutterflyfoundation.org.au or on their helpline 1800 33 4673.
