From 27 February until 5 March 2017, it is Eating Disorder Awareness week, an international awareness campaign, fighting the myths and misunderstandings that surround anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and EDNOS.Joff Powell writes about his experience of suffering with an eating disorder after coming out as gay.
Whilst I may have been late to the party understanding my sexuality, having a somewhat strong (some would say stubborn) personality and being extremely liberal in my attitude, I found it relatively easy to accept the fact I was attracted to men when it finally happened for the first time (20 years old). This isn’t to diminish the difficulty in coming out to a family within a rural community and the years of work I have had to put in to educate people on the subject.
Being gay was just who I now was and if you didn’t accept it, then in my eyes that was your loss. But in the hard and somewhat brash approach I took to force people to accept me, was I missing the signs of a potentially life threatening mental health issue?
Between 600,000 to 725,000 people in the UK are affected by an eating disorder (though this figure could be extremely higher due to conflicting and poor quality data) and it is estimated that between 10% and 25% of those people are male (BEAT (2015). The costs of eating disorders: Social, health and economic impacts).
Shortly after I graduated I began my first gay relationship, with a wonderful man whom I dated for a number of years. The happiness of this relationship, living in London and working within the media made it all very easy for me to feel like everything in my world was perfect. But what I failed to acknowledge was my addiction to excessive exercise and severe rationing of food intake.
I was a young man in his early 20’s, surrounded by other men with perfectly defined physiques, head turning faces and wonderful lifestyles. I never felt as facially attractive as most of my friends but there was nothing I was prepared to do to change that (cosmetic plastic surgery just isn’t for me). However, my body I could change. So I went on a mission to drastically lose weight, even though medically, I was a healthy 12 stone standing at 6ft 3inches tall.
In the years to follow I worked tirelessly to lose weight in search for the perfect body. I knew what I was doing, I had made the mental decision to take control of my weight and therefore, I was in control… right?
I became obsessed with wanting to look like the guys dancing shirtless in the clubs, jealous of the attention they would get, confused as to why I didn’t look like them after all the work I was putting in. My motivation was higher than it ever was; I could do even more and was willing to do whatever it took.
Within another year I had managed to get down to 10 stone 6lbs. The work was paying off even though there was still a long way to go. I started spending far too much time in front of a full length mirror every morning post shower. I would analyse every inch of my body.
When it comes to losing weight it drops off my face relatively easily but my chest and hips just don’t like to cooperate. At one point I even started to question if I had been born the wrong gender. I have an hour glass figure but all of the men around me had these amazing V shaped bodies. Was I not actually gay but perhaps born the wrong gender? My mind swamped with voices, questioning everything about me and why I didn’t look like everyone else.
Still in a committed relationship, I started to resent my partner, he had pecs, a toned stomach and obliques. I mean, short of slashing a line on my pelvic area (I am not dismissing the serious nature of self-harm before you get your knickers in a twist, this is just where my head was at) how on earth would I ever see that level of definition on my body?
The resentment I felt towards myself and my body for failing me started to impact on those around me. As a relatively well-mannered man, my fuse became short. I would hit out at close ones and started to isolate myself from various situations. I didn’t want to go to the clubs, the bars and definitely didn’t want to go to the gym where I would have to change in front of all these ‘perfect’ men. I found some weight loss pills online, which I quickly ordered. There were images of transformation which just had to be true. Lesson to my younger self: do not trust the internet.
Weight loss pills in hand, I eradicated all ‘bad’ food from my diet, at one point even going vegan to ensure I was eating the lowest amount of calories possible. I gave up alcohol and as I couldn’t face the gym, started extreme cardio workouts, running roughly 40 miles per week and doing any other form of exercise I could in the comfort of my own home.
But, I was still in control. I had made all these decisions myself and took an active role in meticulously planning what I did, so in my mind, I did not have a problem. Friends started to raise concerns and the term ‘lollypop head’ was born, but what no one understood was that I relished that name. It filled me with glee that people were obviously starting to see the benefit of all my hard work. To the outside world I painted on a smiley face and assured everyone everything was okay. At home, I would sit naked in front of a mirror sobbing at the reflection of my disgusting body. Jealousy and hatred of those around me not only saw the demise of my relationship but also the loss of friends.
I was at an all-time low; I ostracised myself from the ‘perfect’ gay community, avoided being in pictures and excluded myself from fun social events, wore extremely baggy clothing to try and hide my hideous body and quite simply, hated myself. Smoking 20+ cigarettes a day, eating very little, disturbed sleeping, and drinking alcohol excessively to combat my demons was now my reality.
But I had done this to myself, it was my fault and I still couldn’t accept that I had a problem. That was until my health started to seriously deteriorate. On one 16-mile run, I managed to fracture two ribs. Stepping off a bus I broke my foot. Weak from the lack of nutrients my body was getting, I tripped and broke my arm. All things a healthy body should have been able to withstand but what I had never understood is that by starving my body I had effectively triggered poor bone density (my lowest weight was 9 stone 7 lbs).
Frail, gaunt and isolated I suddenly felt like I had lost all control and I didn’t know where to turn. I couldn’t ask for help because I had done this to myself and in honesty, I still didn’t understand what I was dealing with. One evening, drunk and sobbing on the floor of my kitchen I searched the internet for answers (this is the time the internet can help) and stumbled across a website and helpline number (BEAT, formally Eating Disorders Association). I called the number. Ashamed, I didn’t want to give my name which was fine, a lovely person just spoke to me. I couldn’t say what was wrong (partly because I didn’t know) but I was greeted with an empathic and understanding voice. We were chatting but then the questions started to become too real for me so I hung up.
A couple of days later, haunted by the state I had got myself in the other night, I soberly rang the helpline again after work. I was finally beginning to appreciate that there was a problem. In short (not to belittle the weeks of conversations on the helpline and subsequent attendance to support groups) I was advised to see my GP for a checkup, I was put on a weight management programme, attended support group meetings and confided in a small handful of close friends.
I went through moments of blaming the gay community…
Over the coming months so many questions were raised in my head. Challenging questions about my condition and why it had happened to such a head-strong person. I went through moments of blaming the gay community, a tribe of perfectly defined beautiful people (well, that’s all I could see). I had no choice in my sexuality but the community that I was then a part of was a place where I was made to feel inadequate and inferior. I despised this community who I believed were responsible for why I hated myself so much.
A long road of learning, questioning, challenging situations has ensued post this moment in my life. Understanding the root of my mental health condition and learning how to live with it has been tough to say the least. Do I now blame the gay community for my condition? No, I do not. Do I think that there is pressure to look good within the gay community? Yes, but I also believe that the 21st century has put enormous pressure on people to look and act a certain way. Mainstream media, social media and even pornography thrust this idea of what ‘perfect’ looks like and somehow makes us feel guilty if we can’t stand up to this image. But this subject would need a whole other article.
At the end of the day, I suffer from a mental health issue which I will never be rid of but I try my best to manage it. I have relapsed but luckily through the help I received am better equipped with the tools to spot when I am slipping into trouble again. I eat well and try to maintain a healthy amount of exercise these days.
I post updates of myself on social media, sometimes to negative comments that I am “thirsty” when really I use this as a tool to see whether I am losing too much weight again and to try and promote healthy body image. Yes, of course I like the attention from some of these posts, we all want to feel attractive, but that shouldn’t be misconstrued as a derogatory appeal to the gay or any other community. It’s nice to be told you look good, clothed or not.
We need to work towards ending the stigma around mental health issues and raising awareness of men who suffer with eating disorders. It’s a real problem and something we won’t fully understand until people feel that society will not judge them for coming forward and admitting they need help.
There are a number of resources where you can go for help/information (BEAT, SEED, MGEDT the NHS), the most important thing is to understand that it is okay to ask for it. In confidence you can speak with a number of professionals who can give you advice about what your next steps should be.
Good luck, look after yourself and let’s work together to promote healthy body images for all.
Source: gaytimes.co.uk
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