Sitting there, feeling my emotions spinning crazily out of my control, I was struck by the lightning bolt notion that I might have an eating disorder. The idea that I might not know my own mind well enough to detect denial formed a dark, scary rabbit hole, and my emotions were sucked into even more anxiety.
The longer we believe only skinny, white, affluent girls suffer from eating disorders, the more we isolate an entire community of not-skinny, not-white, not-rich, not-so-young, decidedly-not-female human beings, who suffer, not only with the soul-sucking burden that is an eating disorder, but with the belief they can't possible "have" what's killing them.
When you have a food addiction, food is something that is very stressful for you. It’s just not something that comes naturally. Everything that you put into your mouth is a stressor... I’m 50 and you think that I would be wiser and I wouldn’t be quite as obsessed about it, but I don’t feel any differently than when I was in my youth.