I became bulimic in college. The fall of my junior year to be exact. As I read and hear from other bulimics, I realize most of us find college to be the start of or the worst of our illness.
So, I have to ask: why is college so damn tough on our mental stability??!!
Like each of us, I have a unique story that made me turn to bulimia as a coping mechanism. But, I believe there is something about this time period that makes us more vulnerable to harmful behaviors like bulimia. Basically, I believe we all lose what little, fragile self-esteem we had going in.
Why did I end up bulimic in college?
1) I realized I was poor, and that made me different from the people I considered my peer group at college. I’ve mentioned previously how poor my family was. Well, funny thing is, I had never considered myself “poor” before college. In high school, I had lots of friends, an active social life, and was respected academically; I was also a cheerleader and active in student government. Yeah, I had holes in my shoes in the winter, but it never held me back. I didn’t know that it should. My family was a mess, but my friends and school life gave me the self-confidence I lacked at home.
Most of my peers in college, however, came from more money. They were used to hanging out with friends who could afford to go on shopping sprees and buy what they wanted, who could go out for meals at restaurants and movies, and go to sporting events. They enjoyed talking about their trips to Europe and other exotic places I had never even heard of. I just couldn’t keep up. So, I learned I was different and may never be able to catch up – certainly not during college when I was barely getting by financially. It was a huge shock to say the least. And, my self-confidence was trampled and tossed out the window. I became shy and uncomfortable around people – something I had never been before – unless, of course, I was drinking. Then, like magic, I was funny and charming and enjoyable to be around. So, obviously, I drank a lot . . .
2) I was surrounded by smart people, so I lost the feeling of being special or valuable. Not only was everyone smart at college, but I found I actually had to work a lot harder than most of them to keep up my grades. I had worked very hard at my education growing up because I knew it was the key to getting out and keeping myself out of poverty and dependency. So, I had achieved getting into an Ivy League school, but now I learned I would have to work even harder. I no longer got from my teachers the attention and praise and pats on the back that had sustained my sense of value to the world around me. I felt like perhaps a mistake had been made; perhaps I didn’t deserve to be there. Perhaps I didn’t have what it takes to be successful.
3) Time became my number 1 enemy. I had so much to do and not nearly enough time to do it all. Every moment I was awake I was overwhelmed with all the tasks before me. And, every moment I slept was a nightmare of unfinished reports, tests forgotten and not prepared for, money that needed to be made to pay for debts already accrued and growing. I had never learned the skills that would help me tackle the pile in a creative and healthy way. Nor had I ever learned that education could be exciting and enjoyable rather than a bothersome means to an end. Each successful completion of a task went completely unrecognized and unrewarded in the face of all the remaining tasks competing for my limited time and energy. I no longer felt capable of handling anything well. I was consumed with doubt, anxiety, and insecurity.
4) My hopes and plans for a completely different life and a completely different “me” once I got to college were dashed. Life was different now, but it was still hard. I hated having to worry about money all the time. I hated the way my mother ran her life (and her kids’ lives), completely unable to handle even the smallest responsibilities of life and motherhood. I hated being dependent on my father for money and having to pretend I was the perfect, loving daughter so he would feel I was worthy of all that money he sent each week. I hated being so out of control of my environment, being subjected to my mother’s chain-smoking when it made my asthma and allergies a constant misery, my constant out of control fighting with my sister, my dilapidated house that scared me to death it would fall right down upon us at any moment. I KNEW that once I got away from that hell and took full control of my life, everything would be great. I knew I wouldn’t return to the chaos of my family any time too soon. And, my “real” life of happiness, love, success, and financial security would commence.
Yeah, right. I got to college and my hopes were dashed. The anxiety and panic I had suffered throughout my childhood just got worse and worse. I was overwhelmed with the amount of work I had to do to be successful in school. I was overwhelmed by the financial obligations I had gotten myself into. I was overwhelmed by the sheer size and diversity of the place and how I felt so different from everyone. I could barely cope. I turned to alcohol and partying to relieve some of the pressure and to help me make “friends”, but that would just make the next day more difficult. And, I usually didn’t even remember the people I met and drank with the night before. I became more and more isolated.
5) I had been living so long for my only goal and dream of going to a good college, that I had no other vision for my life. Now that I was at a good college, I had no idea of what I was going to do next. I knew I wanted a good job so that I wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore. But, other than that, I had no vision; the next step for me was a complete mystery. I could feel myself growing increasingly insignificant in a world that seemed to be growing increasingly big and scary and completely uncertain. So, I became increasingly frightened and anxious of what meaning or value my life could possibly have.
6) And, lastly, there was just so much FOOD! Coming from a home where, if I was hungry, I usually had to root around for something to eat and would end up with something like: frozen peas, uncooked pasta, uncooked oatmeal, handfuls of cereal, of course I didn’t know how to eat like a normal person! And, then, college suddenly offered all I could eat, as often as I could eat it. It was nuts! I had never really had to worry about my weight, cuz except for holidays I generally didn’t have the option to overeat. But, after eating pretty much all I wanted during my freshman year, I gained at least 20 pounds. I ended up going home after my freshman year (another plan dashed – I had thought I would never have need to return once I left). And, luckily, with hard work and not much food around, I lost all the extra weight. But, then sophomore year began.
I was no longer on the college meal plan, but I was living in a sorority which not only had it’s own meal plan but always had food in the kitchen and a cook ready to make whatever you needed. Not to mention it was a large house full of weight-obsessing and otherwise competitive, ambitious women. I’ll always wonder what my life would be like if only I had not lived in a sorority for 2 years, or even one year . . . But, regardless, by the end of the year, I had regained all my freshman year weight back. Then, during the summer before sophomore year, I stayed on campus working in my department for money.
No longer on any type of meal plan, I almost starved myself that summer. Not because I wanted to be thin, but merely because I didn’t want to spend the money on food. And, I didn’t want to spend the time on buying or preparing food. I bought what I needed to sate my hunger (mostly bagels and cereal), but I didn’t buy quality foods that I enjoyed. I simply saw good food as a luxury I couldn’t afford – both in terms of money and time. Or, put another way, I wasn’t “worth” a variety of good quality food. When junior year began, and the meal plan started back up, it wasn’t very long before I turned to bulimia to be able to eat all the good food my body and soul craved and yet deal with the issues I had developed around food – that I wasn’t worth it, and that I certainly had no control over the amount of food I put into my body when food was available.
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Well, it wasn’t long before I learned that bulimia was a great coping mechanism for ALL the anxieties of school. When my mind got too chaotic with all the things I had to do and the incessant feeling of falling behind to a point where I could never catch back up, I found that binging and purging would, at least for a little while, calm my mind and my body. It would bring me back to my senses and dull my mind just enough to get me back on track and enable me to slowly begin crossing tasks off my ever growing To-Do list again. When I desperately needed a break, but felt too guilty to get some rest or connect with other people (much healthier ways of coping), I turned to bulimia, which was always reassuring, always comforting, never judging of my clothes or background, and always fully focused on me. It was my secret, and I felt it gave me some power, something special, over the other women (and men) to whom I always compared myself and always felt somehow lacking. And, at an age where most women were somewhat concerned with their weight, it earned me respect and admiration, and not a small amount of envy. And, that alone became my self-esteem and sense of value.
Damn, that makes me so sad.
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Of course, I’m 34 now and far removed from college, so I’m sure I’m missing some of the issues. Will you help me remember? What emotions brought or are bringing you to the breaking point where bulimia becomes your escape and savior?
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