Most people would probably be confused to hear me writing or speaking about fighting eating disorders. I’ve never had one or illustrated any signs of one. So why am I covering this? We’ll let’s talk about that.
I’m a grown, old ass man. I’m 41 and aside for a short period where I took laxatives after a night of binge eating and drinking, I’ve never demonstrated any signs of having an eating disorder. Obviously, taking laxatives after eating is not a good idea. Certainly not for your stomach. However, my logic was that I’d eat it, and then help my body get rid of it by detoxing with the laxative. In hindsight, I recognize that this was not healthy, and borderline entering dangerous mental territory.
Clearly, I have body issues, and honestly I don’t really know where those stem from. I was tormented growing up, but never about my weight. In my memory I can only remember one time in high school where this kid named Kareem said, “I bet you are skinny and have no muscle.” But when I took my shirt off in the locker room, he said “Oh snap man, you got some mass to you.” I think that’s when I started to lift more with this pretty diesel kid name Ravi.
Anyway, over the weekend I ate some chips, and then I thought that if I shoved my finger down my throat, I could get those calories out of my body really easily. I felt fat and disgusting, weak and undisciplined. This thought made me feel angry and frustrated at myself. Mind you, this is not the first time I’ve have this thought. I’ve never one acted on it, but I thought I’d share it with you guys to show you that it doesn’t matter what age you are, what stage of life you are in, what you do for a living, you are never that far away from an eating or mental disorder. I chose not to act on it, instead I went to the gym and did some lifting and cardio.
I have and will always tout hard work as the only way to succeed on this journey. But y’all know that I’m very open and transparent. So there it is folks, one of my moments of weakness and vulnerability.
Growing Up Bronx