Now You See Me, Now You Don’t
One of the things about having an eating disorder (and I’ve had a go at most of ’em, more on that later) that I find mentioned a lot in books, a thing that resonates with me, is the concept that the Disease – anorexia, bulimia, whatever – has it’s own voice.
This voice, for me, makes up part of my Invisible Girl.
Crazy though it sounds, it really can feel like you have at least two people narrating in your head. Like in the movies, where the angel sits on one shoulder, and the devil on the other? Quite a lot like that.
But nobody else knows.
As the Disease takes on it’s own voice, it ‘defends itself’ from being cured.
For example, when I was down to one meal plus teeny snacks a day, no carbs, a well meaning friend noticed and tried to make a joke out of it. A nervous, “Um….is this OK?” kind of joke.
My sensible, REAL side who was already uneasy that what I was doing was not healthy, was beyond the realm of ‘watching my weight’, was starting to be an issue, was alarmed.
The sensible thing to do at the time would have been to pull back, take a good look at my actions, heed the warning, maybe get advice about my calorie intake and the miserable mish-mash of low self esteem fueling it.
But The Invisible Girl stepped in. She was angry at the friend – huh, call yourself a friend! – for pointing out the fact that I was dieting. In front of a whole bunch of single guys, even!
Bitch!
Invisible Girl told me she was jealous, wanted to know the secret of my fantastic weight loss, and that if I admitted I was dieting, it was like pointing at my flab roll and screaming, “Look, I’m fat!”
And you ARE FAT, she said. And the guys don’t like that. Therefore, I was quite justified in continuing what I was doing….but doing it in secret.
And, by the way, she craftily adds: stop looking at the calorie counts, someone might see you -or even worse – YOU might see how little you are eating. LET’S KEEP IT A SECRET FROM YOU, TOO.
For me, a lot of the time I was so used to it, I stopped recognizing it as two distinct voices; just a constant barrage of “you should” , “you shouldn’t”, “maybe this….” “no, maybe that…..”.
It wasn’t (isn’t!) just the Disease that did the talking, though…. a collection of the voices of people who might have teased me at school, ridiculed me at home, turned me down for jobs…..the low self esteem stuff – that all helped Invisible Girl get a grip on me too.
Invisble Girl turns up when I least want her too; when I am depressed about my relationship, when I am nervous about getting a job, when I want reassurance that I am a good friend or mother.
Invisble Girl tells me all these things would be better, easier, if I was a sex bomb (you won’t worry about your husband, when you look like Lara Croft. But you don’t, do you?)
I should use lip gloss more, pointier bras (if that’s the fashion – because what’s in fashion is What’s True- buy Vogue!) I could be wittier (you can take a class for that) have microdermabrasion (you see anyone at the Oscars with acne scars? I think not. Get a brochure) …if I just, somehow, managed to be a better listener (Chrissakes! No-one wants to hear about YOUR shit!), a more available mother (don’t let them sit there! Engage! Be proactive! They’ll grow up hating you!)…………she pretty much judges everything.
When all else fails, she tries to tell me that I will find a solution in the bottom of a chocolate bar. (You know you always feel better!) All I find, however, is her laughter. (Ha-ha! You’re even less like Lara Croft now, stupid!)
But sometimes, she is quiet and I can get on with being plain. Just plain ol’ me; human, with hairy legs and ageing cleavage and roots showing cos I couldn’t give a stuff about regular hair appointments, a slightly disheveled house, sticky kids. Studying, not qualified. A bit nerdy, not a fashion queen. Quiet, with no address book of gushing acquaintances.
Sometimes.
But mostly, it’s a bit crowded in here.