FOOD III

The appetite stimulants my parent gave me did in fact increase my appetite and I received a lot of positive acknowledgment from them because of it. They didn’t shower me with compliments, but rather the tension during dinner and bedtime ended. Unfortunately the increase in appetite coincided with verbal (and sometimes physical) abuse I was enduring in school. I was being teased every day for being gay. Although I didn’t explicitly state that I was gay, I was labeled as being gay by all the other kids (and some teachers) in my school and neighborhood. Children and adults can be quite cruel. I did not fit into the role expected of a young boy. I was not athletic, did not enjoy sports, and was never into other “boy” associated activities. I usually liked to read, create and hang with adults. My gender non-conformity subjected me to hours, days, months, and years of taunting words from ignorant children and even more ignorant adults. The bullying was horrific and it became the new “hell” (the old “hell” being meal times and bedtime) I had to learn to endure. Every school day became a nightmare as kids, some of whom I thought were my friends, ganged up and teased me for something that I did not fully understand. The shame and stigma embedded with being called “faggot”, “gaylord”, and “sissy” kept me from disclosing the torment I was undergoing. I couldn’t bear to state to anyone out loud that I was being called a fag in school. I didn’t want those words to come out of my mouth – doing so would seem to make them all the more a reality and would somehow validate them. I also thought family members would be ashamed of me and would hate having me be a part of their bloodline. Even though I spent many hours in my room crying and coming home with bruises, my parents never knew what was going on. They were oblivious to it –done in a conscious or sub-conscious manner – I don’t know.

I began to enmesh with food the hurt suffered from the bullying and physical abuse. Since I had gotten positive feedback from my parents for eating more, I subconsciously connected overeating with the submergence of anger, confusion and pain. Food was to anesthetize the sting of the bullying words. A few years before, the appetite stimulant kept me from tuning into my real hunger needs by sending out synthetic signals to eat. Now, food was to keep me from integrating and processing the hurt and confusion associated with the bullying. I would remain a “good boy” by eating a lot and by keeping my school grades high, and most importantly I would not fight back. Needless to say, the food was a good strategy in the short-term because it allowed me to remain intact and functioning as the bullying was slowly annihilating my esteem and ego. While I excelled in my studies, I remained inert in every other facet of my life. By the time I had reached mid adolescence, I was almost one hundred pounds overweight, never engaged in any physical activity and had sub-consciously placed myself into being sexually inert. I remember eating so much food when I was alone. I was the classic closet eater because most of my binges occurred when I was alone – either on weekends or right after I would come home from school. I would love having huge sandwiches, Chinese takeaways, chips, soda and any kinds cakes and candy. I would plan and fantasize about the meal I would eat. Thinking about the food and the manner in which I would eat it, calmed all the emotions that welled up but nonetheless remained unregistered. By that I mean, that the feelings were felt but on a superficial level. I never allowed them to fully penetrate; I always remained a few steps ahead of the sadness and total feeling of abandon. Binging on food was a way of calming all the fury that was going on inside. When I would feel erratic and out of control because of what was triggered during my day, I would turn to food to quiet and steady my nerves. It would return (at least for a short time) a sense of equilibrium. While the binge was unhealthy in the long term, it was a true savior in the short-term because it provided what my environment could not – some semblance of control (more on this in later entries).

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

More food sequence will follow.

Stay well,

MBI