My Eating Disorder

by Udayakumar
(India)

I was born in 1955 in San Francisco, California, and grew up in a family that most people would consider "normal" in most respects. But to me, it was a quite painful family situation.

My parents and all of my four brothers and sisters were compulsive-addictive types, and each of us has battled attachments to alcohol, drugs, tobacco, foods, and / or others.

There was little expressed love or emotional honesty in our home. Feelings and emotions were basically hidden or denied.

I became very sensitive to these dynamics and distortions. I was especially angry over the mainstream medical model, and the hospital we frequented for all of our frequent ailments. I sensed something very wrong and contradictory to healing in the way we were often treated with indifference, disrespect, needles, medicines, and vaccines, and I also sensed something alarming about our frequent need for dental care. All I can say is that I often felt confused, frustrated, and even angry with our western medicine.

Our family's all-American diet didn't seem to work for me, and I struggled with constant diarrhea and intestinal pain. I'm sure this must have contributed greatly to my moodiness and frustration. My father, weakened from years of unhealthy, refined and processed foods, cigarettes, beer, prescription drugs, city life, and emotional struggles, and whatever else I am not aware of, developed angina and assorted lung and heart problems, and died a painful death at age 55. I was confused and angry, but somewhere inside me a seed of intent was planted: I would not succumb to the unhealthy lifestyle that led my dad to an early death.

But I had an addictive personality. I was about 18 when Dad died, and my main addictions were enervating foods and a struggle to be "perfect" in order to win whatever love was available from Mom.

But I soon discovered alcohol, drugs, sex, sports, travel, and other ways to loosen up, rebel, and perhaps feel life but also numb it at the same time. It seems I wanted to feel alive and simultaneously numb the pain.

Thus, up until age 30 or so, I jumped in and out of jobs, and traveled extensively around the U.S., Canada, Europe, Asia, Australia, New Zealand, Russia, and other countries. I got in and out of relationships, did plenty of "partying," played lots of sports, and basically lived life to the fullest in one sense, while avoiding myself and the pain I was experiencing in another sense.

Gradually, however, I began to grow, to let some light within. I cut out all drugs and most alcohol by age 30. My world travels enabled me to compare the diets and behavior of different cultures and peoples, and I slowly improved my eating habits.

I began cutting back on refined and processed foods, and sugars and salts, and cut out all red meat by age 30 or so. Within a couple years I was a vegetarian, and feeling much better.

I began college, studying sociology and psychology, and graduated with honors at age 35. I became very involved with community volunteer work, and then international human rights work. I joined fact-finding delegations to Panama, Nicaragua, and Guatemala, became even more concerned with the effects of U.S. policies around the world, and stayed two and a half years in Guatemala doing extensive education work aimed at effecting change in our policies toward Guatemala and other countries.

I was on my path, totally enjoying my work and my life.

But something was missing. Much of my work was excessively ego-driven. Many people would praise my work, and I was addicted to approval from others-- perhaps the love I wished I had gotten as a child. But I still didn't quite love myself, and I grew increasingly perplexed by my continuing anger, unrest, and moodiness.

I was playing the martyr, out to save the world. But something was out of whack. Where was the fun, the joy, the sense of peace and calm?

Then I met a couple from California traveling in Guatemala. They were the first raw-fooders I'd ever met, and one of them also knew iridology. They had learned much of this from alternative health practitioners who emphasized raw food and fasting as the keys to vibrant health.


The three of us spent count less hours discussing life, diet, fasting, raw foods, and numerous other health topics. They convinced me that raw foods maintain the nutrients and life force in the foods, rather than destroy the vitamins by heating the food. My new acquaintance examined my eyes, and pointed out the weaknesses he believed he saw in my colon, legs, heart, etc., based on iridology. (See how healthy eating can quickly turn into an eating disorder, orthorexia.)

Finally, I thought I had my answer! I hoped that this was the key to my continuing frustrations with my moods and confusion. I could fast, eat raw food, and be happy ever after.

Within a couple months I was eating a 90% raw food diet, and tried a short juice cleanse. I felt great. Then I set aside time for a two-week distilled-water fast at a beautiful location on Lake Atitlan Guatemala, supervised by the friends mentioned above. Most of this was a pleasant experience.

I had been so enmeshed in college and my subsequent human-rights work that I had not taken any time to just relax, and the fast provided me an opportunity to rest, lie in the sun, take invigorating cold showers, listen to my body, and take care of myself. I was convinced it was the thing to do.

But I ignored some warnings, and wasn't really listening to my body. I never truly lost my appetite like the "experts" say will happen after the first few days of fasting.

After about a week, my body was shouting "enough!" But I still couldn't trust my body, after years of ignoring it. I was so convinced the fast was the right thing to do.

Then, after the fast, the problems began. I developed amoebic dysentery and Giardia. I panicked and tried medication--which didn't work, and I had continuous diarrhea for two months straight. My weight--which was always low at about 125 pounds 56 kg at a height of 5'8" 173 cm--dropped all the way down to 99 pounds 45 kg. People were looking at me like I was crazy, telling me to eat more cooked foods and take medicine, but I continued to eat light, raw foods.

The only thing that finally eliminated the amoebas and Giardia was another week-long fast. Were these critters just helping me clean up the debris and toxins I had stirred up with the two-week fast? Should I have taken the medications and stopped being so rigid? I still wonder about these things.

That was back in 1995, and my life was hellish for several years afterward. I developed a full-on eating disorder, complete with food fixation, intense cravings, constant food shopping, meal planning, and cycles of bingeing/fasting (see bulimia signs and EDNOS). I thought I was going crazy.

After a couple years of this, I finally admitted that my life was out of control, and began attending eating-disorder groups. It helped so much to "come out of the closet" of shame, know that I wasn't alone, and open up about my struggles.

But my depression (depression warning signs), lack of motivation and strength, inability to experience joy, and poor memory and focus, all continued. I was completely self-absorbed; it seemed like my entire life was focused was on food. There was no room for God, friends, an intimate relationship, or anyone else.

Meanwhile, I was still fairly convinced that raw food and cleansing were key. Raw food and fasting seemed to help bring up raw feelings, and I'd never been very good at expressing or even acknowledging my feelings.

With my increased stability, I have been able to buy my first home, and have attracted a wonderful woman into my life.

I wish you all many blessings and the best of success on your own path, and thank you for this opportunity to share my story.