Ran Into An Abusive Ex!

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By Stacy Koruba

I have battled with weight issues, body dysmorphia, bulimia, purging disorder, night eating disorder, avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder and have been on a “diet” at least 1000 times or more in my life. I was trained at the age of 10 that that only thing that matters in life is what you look like and being overweight is disgusting. It was pounded into my head literally that “no one would ever like me if I were fat.” For 39 years my world revolved around how I looked and what I ate or could not eat. I was obsessed, repulsed by my myself and sometimes suicidal. I was bulimic for over 20 years and no one in my family knew. I hide it well and had many rituals that I would follow, lots of secrets that I had kept from my husband and daughter. This left me feeling like a liar and I was ashamed of myself.

Last November I began seeing a Psychiatrist and a therapist for other issues. During my initial appointments I went prepared with a list of every single mental and physical issue I have ever had. I was done hiding my guilt and shame and personal and past secrets. If I was ever going to recover, I needed a person that knew everything about my history. We started out working on my main issues first, C-PTSD and Stockholm Syndrome. After a few visits I began talking about my body dysmorphia and for the first time ever exposed myself and my eating disorders in full detail. It was a relief to finally tell someone else. My therapist began working with me on a treatment plan, I began giving myself one complement in the mirror daily, even though I did not believe it at first. When the negative voice in my head would speak up, I would say “Thank you for your opinion but it’s not wanted and untrue.” After a week I would say that and then give that voice the middle finger in the mirror. After a few weeks I began believing some of the good things. Eventually the negative voice went away.

One of the best tools that worked for me was my therapist telling me to divorce my scale. I used to weigh myself about 20 times a day. Each time I did it I felt disgusted with myself if the number went up even an ounce and felt super happy if I lost an ounce. It was stupid and made zero sense scientifically. The effects it had on my mental state were very damaging though and it determined how much I allowed myself to eat, how much I hated myself and as the day went on I could get very emotional and then perhaps I would begin to purge just looking for the number on the scale to go down a pound, or totally give up and over eat until I couldn’t eat another thing and then vomit. Divorcing the scale made sense, but it was also scary. I needed the scale to guide me, but the scale was my abuser. When I divorced my ex-husband, who was also an abuser I just left. I went to work one day and never returned. I did not go to court for the hearing. I did not take a penny from the sale of our homes, did not take a car or any money that was in our bank accounts. I walked away and just got a divorce. That is what I did with the scale. My husband hid it from me and there were a few times I searched for it but after a few weeks I never looked again.

The amazing thing was that I stopped worrying about how much I was eating, and a natural healthier way of eating fell into place. My clothes felt fine and I felt healthy. I was going to the gym 5 or 6 days a week. I was eating what I wanted and stopping when I was full. I was not obsessing. I did not think about binging or purging, and I begin to be able to look in the mirror at myself and not feel like I was looking in a circus mirror. COVID-19 happened, and I continued to work out until late May. I had some personal family issues occur during that time and stopped working out. I began experiencing a different type of eating disorder, avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. I was not intentionally trying to diet or not eat; I was just not hungry and had no taste for anything. The thought of food made me sick. After a few weeks my husband got scared and began preparing meals for me a few times a day, he is a great person. I am still disinterested in food.

I went for my yearly checkup last week to my primary care Doctor. The last time I saw her was in February. The medical assistant called my name and immediately reintroduced me to my EX! Here he was, in my Doctor’s office just waiting for me. I forgot he would be there, and my stomach dropped when I saw him. I took off my shoes and reluctantly got on, turning my head and I asked the medical assistant to not tell me number because I have an eating disorder and had not weighed myself since last January. She put me in a room, and I sat and waited for the Doctor to come in.

I began wondering what the number was. I got a lump in my throat thinking about it, nothing like this had happened since the beginning of the year, and it was happening just because I stepped on the scale? I began obsessing about what that number was, I was worried, convincing myself that I had probably gained 50 pounds by not keeping track all year and not vomiting and abusing laxatives.

By the time she entered the room I was covered in hives. She is the person that suggested I go to therapy in the first place. She knew some of my history and what caused my C-PTSD has know about my abuse for some time. I explained to her about my eating disorders and that I had not wanted to know my weight, but that I was now obsessing over it. She looked at the chart and told me that there was not a big change at all. I felt overjoyed and amazed! She said that she wanted to discuss it during the visit but first we went over my A1C. I have type 2 Diabetes. Last February my number was 6.8. I had managed to get it to that number by going to the gym every day and eating healthier. Sadly, my number now was 8.9. I immediately felt like a failure and wondered how my numbers went up so much it my weight did not. She explained that not eating often enough and not exercising can make your numbers go up just as much as eating all the wrong foods.

I barely heard any of that because I found myself back in a familiar place of self-doubt and hatred. I did not want to be in that place, and I could not believe that it was so easy to get back to feeling this way. Now she wanted to discuss my weight and I did not want to hear anything; I was not prepared. She smiled and said, you have only gained EIGHT pounds. My heart began pounding and palpitating. I broke out in a sweat and felt like I could not breathe and wanted to vomit. I wanted to cry but could not in front of her. I quickly blamed my husband in my mind because he is the one that has been feeding me delicious breakfast sandwiches and pancakes.

She grabbed my hand and said looking over your chart, your weight fluctuates between your number in Feb and this number over the last 10 years. You seem stay between these 8 pounds. There was a time that I was down 22 more but it was during an active time that I was starving myself. Then she said, “you went 9 months without weighing yourself probably 1000 times, you did not have to vomit 300 times over the last 9 months and ate when you wanted to, without worry. You gained 8 pounds because you stopped exercising and because this has been an emotional year for everyone. Look at all of the personal accomplishments you have made in 9 months!” That made me feel a little better.

I went home with a plan in place to begin exercising the Sunday after Thanksgiving. If you are a dieter, you know that eating healthier and exercising always begins with a plan and a start date that happens “later”. I started testing my blood again that day and was frustrated because my readings were high, even though I was not eating carbs. I could not figure out what the reason was because in the past if I did not eat carbs my numbers would improve quickly. I got a flu shot so I thought maybe the vaccine was causing my numbers to go high. On Thanksgiving I ate regularly. Perhaps I overate or overate compared to how I have been eating. I tested my sugar, prepared for the number to be extremely high, because I had many carbs. After a week of readings over 200 I had a normal reading! Holy shit, she was right, and I was not listening. Not eating can make your numbers just as high as eating the wrong things. All week I was eating a small amount every day, 1 main meal and a small snack in the mornings and I could not get my levels under 200. On Thanksgiving I ate several times that day and I did not have huge servings, but I did have carbs.

I openly admitted to my husband that after 9 months I was feeling like I should sneak off to the bathroom and make myself vomit because I thought I overate. I told him this because once he knew then I would not be able to go and do it, but the urge was back for the first time and it was there all because I got weighed again and I was obsessing because I knew a number on a scale and before I knew that number I felt fine with myself because my clothes all fit the same but now I was feeling gross and nasty and the old voice of my Mom was back telling me that I am fat and disgusting. Instead of going to the bathroom I tested my sugar and after eating regular amounts of food in a day, which I had not been doing for months my sugar was 140.

For people with an ED, the scale is a monster. Do not get on one. The voices in our heads are intrusive fucking liars, trying to damage us and make us feel unworthy because whoever put those voices there felt unworthy about themselves, do not listen. Give them the finger and walk away. I am going to continue to do what I can to recover. Begin exercising again, because it is healthy, is great for my body and my diabetes and my mental state. I am going to make a better effort and concentrating on eating better. I convinced myself that because I was not binging and purging or “dieting” that I was all better. Avoiding food is just as unhealthy. I am going to reach out for help sooner and more often.

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