Anxiety, Perfectionism, and My Eating Disorder: The Why Part 1

I am overjoyed and overwhelmed by the support from my friends, family, and readers on my last post, My Eating Disorder Story. Your likes, “loves,” thoughtful comments, DM’s, and texts meant the world to me.

              I’d like to dive a little deeper into my story and break down the specifics to why it could have happened. Today, I’d like to discuss how specifically my anxiety and strive for perfection fueled my eating disorder. I plan on posting later about other possible causes in the hopes of providing more information about this insidious disorder and how to help.

              For me personally, I used my eating disorder as a (very unhealthy) coping mechanism to combat my underlying anxiety. (I was unaware that I had anxiety while I was engaging in eating disorder behaviors, however, looking back now, it makes so much sense. If I had gotten help for my anxiety much earlier in life, perhaps I wouldn’t have acquired an eating disorder.)

Before beginning my recovery journey, I thought the only mental illness I was unlucky enough to struggle with was my eating disorder. Yeah, I thought I was a little shy and quirky, but I never imagined that I had anxiety.

~My General Anxiety~

As a child I would often get UTI’s and yeast infections. For a short period of time, they were legitimate. I would get my medicine and get better. However, as time progressed, my UTI’s and yeast infections became stress induced. When I first started to feel symptoms of a UTI or yeast infection, I would go to the doctor in the hopes that they would give me antibiotics or other medicine. However, I was told there was nothing physically wrong. There was no need for medicine. This happened a few times before I stopped going to the doctor for them altogether.

My emotional withholding directly manifested in physical withholding. I was wound so tightly that it caused me to fall ill. In hindsight, my body was begging for help by physically presenting my mental illness.

These ailments presented themselves most frequently in the summer months, where I didn’t have school. Lack of structure was and still is a huge trigger for my anxiety. I would use eating disorder behaviors not only to break up my day but also to tire myself out, so I didn’t have the energy to overthink and obsess.

As I reached adolescence, I started to have serious insomnia. It was during the summer prior to starting high school where my insomnia hit the hardest. The combination of the unknown of high school as well as the lack of structure of the summer caused me to have frequent sleepless nights.

My insomnia continued until I started running. I directly connected running with being able to fall asleep. For years afterwards, I was convinced that if I didn’t run, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. So, when I got injured (which as discussed in my last post, was frequently), sleeping became a nightmare all over again.

~My Social Anxiety~

Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends- at least not a lot of close friends. My social anxiety prevented me from making plans with friends at school or speaking in general. If there was one comment I could count on receiving in my middle school progress reports, it was “needs to participate more.” I still struggle with speaking up in large groups, especially when I feel I don’t know enough about the subject. Also, as I didn’t make close friends until later adolescence, I learned how to make friends (for the most part) by oversharing and bonding over shared traumas, which is something I am still guilty of doing. I still am actively trying to unlearn this behavior.

~My Performance Anxiety~

I am a highly competitive person. I have a feeling this is partly societal, partly genetic. However, my competitiveness is amplified by my anxiety. I feel that I need to be the best me in everything I do. For example, when I played softball, I specifically, needed to play a good game. It didn’t matter to me if my team won or lost. What mattered to me is if I made good plays, if I scored runs, and if I made as few errors as possible.

When I auditioned on flute for Regionals, All State, New England’s, and other ensembles, I had to execute my piece perfectly. If I made an error, I was a failure. It was an all or nothing attitude. My poor mother got to watch me near explode from a panic attack hours before auditions and afterwards berate myself mercilessly. I could execute a piece perfectly 100 times before an audition, but by the time it came for me to play in front of judges, my mind would go blank. I would sweat profusely and forget how to breathe (which makes it difficult to play a wind instrument.) I reflect now on how horribly I would self-sabotage myself because of my obsession with perfection.

When it came to my running career, I had to make certain times. If I ran races too slowly, my world felt like it was crumbling. My entire self-worth was based off what times I ran. To put it simply, if I ran a fast time, I was good, but if I ran a slow time then I was bad, or had gotten fat, or had “lost my touch.” I couldn’t accept for myself that my body ran the times it could from race to race and from course to course. I'm including a picture of me racing where I felt like a failure because I felt like I had "lost my touch."

My body wasn’t and isn't a robot. It was never designed to be as consistent as I wanted it to be. Personal growth doesn’t look like a straight line. There are ups and downs and plateaus. The good, the bad, and even the boring is what makes you grow. At the time, however, I didn’t want to grow. I wanted to take a snapshot of my wins and live in that high forever.

I remember when I got down to my lowest weight in the summer before my sophomore year of college, I took an endless number of pictures. I did this because even if I didn’t stay that skinny forever, at least I had pictures to prove that I had gotten there. I had “won” in a sense. I wanted to feel this feeling of “winning” forever. I didn’t want to change. I didn’t want to grow. I wanted to live in the safe-haven of thinness and speed that I had forced upon my body. But this just wasn’t realistic or sustainable.

~What You Can D0~

I want to end this post with a warning for parents, teachers, coaches, trainers, and friends. If you have a student, athlete, friend, or relative that considers themselves a “perfectionist,” be leery of a progression into an eating disorder or addiction. Those who are excessively hard on themselves after a perceived failure, have an "all or nothing attitude," an anxious personality, are prone to depression, and call themselves a “perfectionist,” are more at risk for developing an eating disorder. I was one of them. I have seen this also happen to friends, teammates, and peers. I personally believe athletes who participate in individual and/or aesthetic sports like swimming, running, gymnatsics, figure skating, etc are more likely to be perfectionists, and in turn be more prone to developing an eating disorder.

(ALSO! Eating disorders can strike anyone at any age, race, size, shape, or walks of life! They do not all look like me.)

If you see these characteristics in someone in conjunction with hearing negative talk about their body and food, be extra leery. Remember, be kind and do not attack the person in question. Show that you care about their well-being and you want what’s best for them. In the end, it’s their decision to accept change.

Here is a link from NEDA on how to address a loved one if you do suspect them in having an eating disorder.

https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/help/caregivers

Again, thank you to everyone who has reached out. 😊 Readers can also now subscribe to my blog by clicking “Subscribe” and entering your email.

Thank you all and remember to be kind and wear a mask!

With love,

Emily